


Heat Etiquette for the Modern Omega

by DizzilySpiraling



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alpha Derek, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Anal Sex, Deputy Stiles Stilinski, Implied Mpreg, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Omega Verse, Rating May Change, Rimming, Smut, Worldbuilding, omega rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-16 19:57:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2282646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzilySpiraling/pseuds/DizzilySpiraling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You are not defined by your sex, Stiles. And neither am I.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>In which Stiles accidentally propositions an alpha with his jockstrap, heat happens, and he somehow finds time to fight for omega rights along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jock Straps and Strawberry Protein Shakes

**Author's Note:**

> [Here is a handy guide](http://dizzilytwirling.tumblr.com/post/93812666031/thoughts-and-head-cannon-concerning-a-b-o) for background on this particular A/B/O verse.

Stiles loved his gym, alright? It was just hipster enough without being so obscure that it couldn’t even be called a gym anymore. It was built just over a year ago in a refurbished candy factory, so the whole building had a lingering sugary type of smell that was never going to go away. The windows were large and let in lots of natural light, and all of the exposed brick just gave the space a sort of… sturdy look that all of the glass and chrome in the city could never achieve.

Plus, the juice bar had an ‘all- you- can- drink’ wheatgrass special on Tuesdays.

It was among several gyms in the city to follow the new 'common locker rooms' trend, which caused a huge public uproar when the first one opened in the city. The omega rights movement groups were collectively in support of the change, many considering it the necessary progress for society. On the extremely conservative side, these new shared facilities have been called ‘lewd’, ‘disgusting’ and a ‘shame on decent members of society’.

Still, Stiles could admit he was completely freaked out the first time he stepped into the locker room full of alphas, betas, and other omegas, all in various stages of undress. And after he’d calmed down a little, and gotten a good eyeful of many, many bodies, the nudity wasn’t so novel anymore, and faded into the backdrop. Occasionally someone would catch his eye, but Stiles had been leered at enough times in his life to avert his eyes and offer some shred of privacy.

It actually wasn’t all that different from his old gym; Stiles didn’t know why he’d been worried to the extent that he showered at home for a few days before getting up the nerve to go into the locker room. The thing about gyms, no matter where they were, or who they were catering to, whether it was a pre-natal exercise centre or fitness for seniors, was that the types of people there were exactly the same. There would always be the one extremely proud of their hard-earned body, strutting nude up and down the lockers just begging for anyone to comment. Then there was ‘questionable BO person’, who loved to stand close and talk for days, and ‘the one whose hair dryer blows out the fuse and ruins it for everybody’.

Also ‘ridiculously hot guy’. Every gym has one.

Good looking people at a gym were not uncommon, but every gym definitely had a ‘ridiculously hot guy’. Like so hot that it was just unfair for the rest of humankind. The kind that could somehow look more attractive all sweaty in a gym shirt and the sight of whom walking around the changing room with a towel inevitably drew the eye of everyone present.

Stiles’ gym definitely had one of those. He was tall, dark, and horrifically handsome. And also looked slightly serial-killer-y when the line was too long at the juice bar. So, definitely alpha. He tended to come in halfway through Stiles’ workout, starting on the rowing machine (unfair, nobody’s back should have muscles like that), then weights, and cardio, never speaking to anyone, and glaring at anyone who tried. Sure, there was always the odd alpha or two that stood close to him and tried to lift more to show off, but a sideways glance from serial-killer/juice lover was usually enough to discourage them from embarrassing themselves any further.  
Stiles may have extended his workout a few times to watch the alpha do squats. What? He was sure his treadmill buddy Mrs. Miller did the same thing, only her opinions on the subject matter were usually voiced aloud.

It was a rare day when Stiles’ morning routine didn’t include Mr. Alpha, and a lack of eye candy equaled a lack of motivation to push himself an extra mile on the treadmill. Still, Stiles couldn’t shake the idea that his morning was missing something, and sat down in the change room to text Scott the latest development in ‘serial killer alpha watch’.

Texting one’s best friend naked while wrapped in a towel? Normal. Doing so in a public locker room? Perhaps should be reconsidered. Because Stiles had just received the most judgemental throat clearing he’s ever heard. Oh, would you look at that, Mr. Alpha was here after all. Seriously, Stiles’ life.

“Can I help you?” Crap. That sounded like a come on. “Wait, no. I’m not offering to like- or anything. Not that you’re not. You know. Well, you know.”

“You’re sitting on my bag strap.” Stiles wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact that he found the ‘long juice line’ glare a surprisingly effective turn on. He shuffled over on the bench awkwardly and handed the strap over, and because he had the social grace of a hippo, he belatedly noticed the fact that his- how to put this delicately- intimates, were hanging from his grip. In his defense, Mr. Now-Very-Pissed-Alpha’s face was very distracting.

Oh god, Stiles just became the creep from the gym everybody told their friends about. The alpha would probably tell all his friends about the time that some omega at the gym propositioned him in a towel by handing him a sweaty jock strap.

Except, now the alpha just looked more confused than anything.

“Are you initiating a courtship?”

“No! God, no.” Stiles quickly snatched back his underwear and hid it behind him. God, the man must think he’s such a slut now. Why couldn’t he have accidentally handed over a shirt or something normal? The traditional omega offering at the start of a courtship was a handkerchief. Nowadays the standards are much more lax, and the offerings have evolved to include neckties and scarves. Something of such an… intimate nature was only something one read about in harlequin novels. “I’m sure you’re very….desirable. But I’m just not- I’m trying to get promoted at work and…” Stiles took a deep breath, forcing himself to just stop talking, and handed over the strap.

“I’m not initiating a courtship. Sorry about the confusion.” There, he was finally starting to sound like a civilized human being.

Mr. Alpha took his bag and walked away. Stiles melted into a puddle of shame.

~

Funny thing was, they sort of became friends after that.

It started with Derek (they used names now, it was all very civil) greeting him with “Morning, Jock Strap” when they were both in the juice line. To which Stiles retorted with a spectacular eye roll and an “I don’t call you Strawberry Protein Shake.”

It became routine to greet each other every morning with a cheeky nickname, some small talk, and both of them feigning ignorance at the glances Mrs. Miller threw their direction.

“Grass is for cows, Stiles. Not people.” Derek was bringing up their argument about Stiles’ love for wheatgrass shots again. Whatever, at least Stiles’ favorite drink didn’t look like it was for a twelve year old girl.

“Why do you even bother at the juice bar, Derek? You might as well go get a Frappuccino across the street.”

“That place doesn’t deserve to be called a coffee shop,” Derek muttered while he waited for his protein shake, face twisting at the sight of Stiles downing his bright green shot.

“Well, not all of us have fancy editor jobs that let us work at the hipster espresso bar across town.” Stiles had taken Scott once on Derek’s suggestion, and it was admittedly the best coffee he’s ever had. Sadly, he never had time in the morning except for a quick drive through coffee, and Cherry and Smoke Espresso Bar was the type of place one needed to really sit down and relax in to fully appreciate.

“How nice that you look in on me as I work, Officer Stilinski,” Derek retorted dryly as they cooled off on some yoga mats.

“I’m working too! Driving around town looking for suspicious activity is my work! Stop flattering yourself, Hale.” Maybe the place wasn’t exactly on his patrol route, but nobody had to know. As an officer of the law, Stiles needed to keep the criminals on their toes.

“Well, I’m off to work at the ‘suspicious’ café. You should stop in on your break; I hear there are almond croissants today.” Sometimes Stiles was reminded of how unfair the world was. Possibly the only alpha that didn’t treat him like some simpering, useless thing was not only gorgeous, but as Stiles had come to discover: well read, a vocal supporter of omega rights, almost as sarcastic as Stiles was, with a wickedly dry sense of humour. His life.

~  
“I can’t believe you’re going to order a drip coffee here.” Stiles almost jumped in the air when the voice suddenly appeared in his ear. He turned around to give Derek a disapproving look, decidedly not staring at the twinkle in his eye as Derek tried to contain his laughter.

“Fine, Mr. Hipster-Alpha. You can order. And pay. I’m going to get a seat before the hangover crowd comes.” It occurred to Stiles as he sat that this was… kind of like a date? No. You know what? Stiles was a firm believer in the fact that alphas and omegas could be just friends. Look at him and Lydia, once they got past the awkward high school confessions thing. He will pay for coffee next time. Will there be a next time? There will totally be a next time. Friends have coffee, it’s a thing people do.  
Derek came back looking smug with what looked like an antique wooden tray bearing a glass carafe, two mismatched mugs, and Stiles’ favorite pumpkin loaf. This man, Stiles can’t even sometimes. Oh, and there was already sugar for him at the bottom of one of the mugs. Of course there was.

“I was reading the reviews online for this place, and apparently the owner travels to Ethiopia to talk to farmers and select beans every few months. Who even does that?” The process seemed a little extreme to Stiles-- surely one can find a good quality bean without actually seeing them being grown.

Derek seemed to grow a little uncomfortable at the change in topic, eyes darting toward the cute barista behind the counter before being inexplicably enthralled with arranging the little glass terrarium on the table just right.

“She doesn’t always go to Ethiopia.” He finally spoke; pouring coffee into his own mug after Stiles had taken his share. “She only uses bean sourcing as an excuse to travel. Last summer she went to Turkey for three weeks and ended up sourcing from Morocco instead. ” At Stiles’ confusion, he gestured to the barista from before. “We know each other. I was one of her first investors.”

Ah. She was definitely cute. If one were into the brunette, lean, great coffee maker type. Damn Derek Hale for having such attractive friends. Were they involved? Did they used to be involved? They had to be, Derek practically spent all of his work day here. Just as Stiles was starting to make up some excuse and leave Derek and his pretty barista friend alone, she started walking out from behind the counter and approaching their table.

Was she going to warn Stiles off? He was mostly sure he could subdue her in case of an attack. Mostly. Her nails looked quite long. Maybe escape was the best tactic.  
“Der-Bear!” She exclaimed loudly, pressing behind Derek’s chair and wrapping her arms around his neck, nuzzling against his cheek like an eager kitten.  
Definitely involved.

“Stiles, this is my sister Cora.” Okay, not involved. Yay? What did Stiles care? He didn't care. “Who should start acting like a responsible business owner instead of harassing her customers.” Derek looked apologetic at her sudden appearance, though the gentle hand he laid on top of hers spoke of his fondness for her.

Huh, sister.

Seriously, this man. Adorable nicknames and letting his sister cuddle him in public? How was Stiles expected to deal with this bullshit?

“Der-Bear” was all Stiles could process in this moment. If Derek thought that was going to be ignored and never mentioned again, he was in for a world of disappointment.

“Technically, it’s Sir Derek, the Grumpy Bear. It’s nice to meet you, Stiles.” Cora had straightened up out of the embrace and pulled up a chair to seat herself at their table. Stiles was surprised at the soothing scent of a fellow omega coming from her. Owning and operating this place on her own and maintaining such a reputation in the neighborhood must not have been easy. “How come you’re sitting with my socially inept brother, deputy? You should sit at the counter next time and keep me company. Maybe you can flash your badge at the rowdier alphas. I can pay for your services in coffee and pastries.”

“Stiles has actual work to do instead of chatting with you all day, Cora,” Derek interjected, throwing a pointed look in her direction.

“How about you let Stiles speak for himself, Derek?” Cora threw back.

“Stiles would like free coffee,” Stiles piped up, more amused than anything at their interaction. “I’ll come by on my lunch break next time.”

Lunch with Cora soon became a thing as well. She was just so easy to get along with, and the free coffee was a definite bonus. Stiles relished in the fact that she was also an omega who refused to abide by some of the older traditions and lived a fulfilling, single life. Soon, he was beginning to spend every work day lunch and dinner sitting at Cora’s counter, unpacking food for the both of them while she made them drinks.

And all of a sudden, Stiles found his life being invaded by an influx of Hales.

They were sort of hard to avoid once one began associating with one of them. It was sort of a ‘buy one get twenty free’ deal. Cousin Nathan helped out after school on Thursdays and Fridays, working the cash register and learning the barista trade from Cora during their downtime. Uncle Peter- who was an incorrigible flirt, but an incredible baker- came in just before closing once every other day and always managed to make Stiles cringe with the crudeness of his innuendos.

And then there was Derek. He was just… around. All the time. Though to be fair, Stiles was the one that hung out at his sister’s café. But still, couldn't the man go do his work at an office or something? The day Stiles walked in bearing a homemade pizza and was assaulted with the sight of Derek Hale staring intently at his laptop, dressed in a soft looking cardigan, black rimmed glasses, with the sunlight hitting him just so, Stiles literally tripped over the threshold and almost dropped the pizza.

“Your brother needs to just stop with the urban hipster and tortured writer look,” Stiles huffed as he set lunch down on the counter. “I swear all he needs is a circle scarf and a minimalist tattoo.”

“He has our family crest tattooed on his back,” Cora admitted, moving the pizza out of the way before Stiles’ forehead made contact with the counter in frustration.

“I need to get laid. Do you know if Laura is single?” Stiles looked up at Cora pathetically, though she was not falling for his puppy dog look at all.

“You’re not really her type. She likes them buff, or curvy.” She patted his arm on the way to grabbing another slice of pizza, though it did little to console Stiles. “Though she has said to me she’d like to take a bite out of your ass.”

Stiles perked up at that, all those squats at the gym were paying off after all. He could never hope to get the washboard abs in the brochures – nor did he really want to- but it was nice to hear that all of his work had been noticed.

“My leave is coming up in two weeks,” Stiles confided quietly. He was prepared to stay on his suppressants and just take the time off to deal with things around the house. Having been on them for a little over two years was starting to take a toll on his body. Medically, he was still safe to be on them for another two years at least. But. Well. The big ‘but’ in this situation was sitting by the window.

“Ask him,” Cora told him sternly.

“But-”

“Ask him,” she said again, in a gentler tone. “Believe me when I say ‘I know what it’s like’. The hormones are technically safe, but they’re definitely not designed to provide a comfortable experience, especially when you’ve been on them continuously. If he decides to turn you down, he’s going to be nice about it. Our mother raised us to have manners. And if he does turn you down, we’ll go clubbing and talk about what a dick he is.”

Stiles got up with every intention of approaching Derek, but quickly backtracked after a few steps. “Tomorrow. I’ll do it tomorrow,” he promised Cora when she gave him a disapproving look.

“Tomorrow. Unless you’d rather I ask him for you,” she threatened. “Over family dinner.”

Stiles gave a dramatic gasp and pointed accusingly at her, their theatrics drawing the attention of everyone (except Derek, Derek was used to their strange brand of friendship) in the café. “You witch. I shall have my revenge!” He exited in what he hoped was a melodramatic enough fashion, refusing to break character even when he heard Cora’s giggling behind him.

Stiles mulled over his proposition all night, tossing and turning until he was forced to give up on the idea of sleeping and instead camped out on his couch reading various advice columns and relationship blogs. On the bright side, there was this really cute cat that kept jumping in and out of boxes.

Needless to say, his workout the next morning was borderline pathetic. A few rows in and he’d given up on the idea of a productive day and resolved on going home and taking a long nap. He started the treadmill on a sluggish pace and slowly sipped at a kale smoothie whilst watching the news, barely registering Derek’s appearance on the treadmill beside his.

“Wild night with your Netflix queue?”

“Ha-ha. When’d you get a sense of humour?”

“It’s been known to happen.” Derek shrugged, jogging on his own machine. Stiles wished he was awake enough to run, if only he could postpone the conversation they were about to have. “What’s on your mind?”

“I’m seriously questioning my friendship with your sister.” How did one even begin to approach this? Stiles wished there was some sort of government sanctioned request he could just email Derek, where all he would have to do was fill in their names.

“Sometimes I wish I had the luxury of reconsidering my relationship with Cora. Is this about anything in particular? Does she want to take you to that alpha strip club again?”

“No! Well, yes. Maybe. But that depends on you.” Derek just gave him a confused look, sort of like ‘I’d love for my baby sister not to go to a strip club for happy hour but that’s not really my decision’.

“I have a heat coming up in three weeks and I wanted to ask if you could like, get time off? And spend the week. With me. Because the hormones are really messing with me and I don’t want to spend the week overdosing on Midol. Not that you’re a substitute for Midol. I know you work on your own schedule but I assume you have deadlines and stuff. And if you can’t or you don’t want to that’s totally fine. Cora’s going to take me to Hot Knots where we talk about what a dick you are,” Stiles blurted out. Though two seconds after his monologue, Stiles flushed in mortification and began to regret the whole thing. But what Stiles regretted even more was the fact that he didn’t film Derek’s stumble following jabs at the emergency stop button.

“Yes,” came the definitive answer as soon as Derek righted himself.

“Seriously?” Stiles was expecting a whole inquisition. Or at least a few polite ‘are you sure’s’ before Derek reluctantly consented or gently rejected him.

“We’re talking about spending your heat together, right? Not about going to a strip club and calling me names.”

“I’m not going to a strip club!” That drew a few stares in their direction. “Sorry, I’m not used to doing this. I’ll come find you at Cora’s when I’m a little more alert and capable.”

He escaped to the locker room before his mouth got him into more trouble, pausing in the doorway to look back at Derek. The poor alpha had resumed his running, though he offered Stiles a private smile when their eyes met.

A familiar flutter bloomed in Stiles’ chest, not unlike when their fingers met over his jock strap.

Crap, it was all going so well.


	2. House Tours and Pickled Asparagus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we're introduced to more Hales, everybody signs a lot of legal documents, and for once Stiles isn't the awkward one.

The nice thing about working in law enforcement was that the lesson of ‘get it in writing’ had been drilled into Stiles repeatedly. So by the time he made it to Cora’s at lunch, he was armed with a series of heat-related documents for both Derek and himself to sign. 

“Most of it are the standard forms I’ve pulled off the federal website.” They sat at Derek’s usual table, Cora sitting in as their witness. “You’re not to film, photograph, make or distribute any sort of recording of our time together. Any permanent physical or psychological damage is liable to legal action on my part. Any legal decisions I make during heat are waived, nor can I be forced to sign any documents. And my doctor should be faxing over proof that I’m free of STIs, narcotics free, and have been taking my birth control. It’s within your rights to ask for another round of tests a week before my heat. My lawyer, OB GYN and emergency contacts are listed in the appendices. There’s also instructions on the steps you should take in case work calls me in on an emergency. Initial on yellow arrows, sign on green, date on red.”

“This looks way more thorough than what I’ve seen on the government website.” Cora whistled at his preparedness, skimming through as she signed on the witness line. “I’m definitely calling you when I decide to do this.” 

Derek didn’t utter a word throughout the whole process, except to let out a displeased sigh at the mention of Cora spending her heat with anyone. He hardly took any time to read through all the clauses and waivers before he initialed, signed, and dated on every line. 

“I notice you left location blank.” he muttered quietly, neatly stacking the three copies in the middle of the table. 

“I was thinking you’d want to see my house before I forced you to spend a week there? I’m much more comfortable there, but I didn’t want you to sign without knowing what you were agreeing to. I’m willing to compromise on location.” Stiles bought his house from a bank auction after the recession. The backyard was all dug up from the previous owner’s dogs, and he’d basically had to redo the entire roof, but it was all his. The property deed was in Stiles’ name, and Stiles paid his own mortgage with his own money every month. The day his lawyer delivered the key, Stiles sat in the doorway silently stroking the floorboards for a good half hour. His house, however small and in need of repair it was, was the physical proof that an omega from a middle class family could achieve something in this world, and didn’t need a ‘big strong alpha’. 

“I’ll call my doctor’s office and have my records sent to you. I could come see your house after your shift is over?” Derek suggested. 

“And of course I’m coming too. As a chaperone,” Cora piped up. “I know we’re not in the 18th century anymore, but as your legal witness and Derek’s family member, I have to make sure you’re not luring him into a murder dungeon and then selling his organs on the black market.”

Stiles huffed indignantly at the suggestion that he would be harvesting organs. Anyone knows the most lucrative business in the black market is drug dealing. If he was going to commit himself to a life of crime, he may as well pick the career path with the highest potential earning. 

“And since I noticed Derek’s emergency contact is our mother, she’ll also be coming on this tour. Stiles, you should bring someone as well. So it’s not a Hales versus you event,” Cora continued, pulling out her phone and no doubt already informing the illustrious Mrs. Hale of the latest changes to her schedule. Both Derek and Stiles gaped at her, because since when was this an ‘event’?

“I guess I’ll bring Scotty. Oh, I’m adding a condition that my father is not to be contacted unless there is a dire emergency. His blood pressure is high enough as it is.” It would be fun at least, to see his eager puppy of a best friend put on his alpha posturing for Stiles’ honor. 

“We’re not bringing Mom.” Derek insisted, eyes wide and reaching for Cora’s phone.

“Too late. She says she’s free to leave work any time after three. And she also says you’re a fool for not asking your ‘charming young man’ over for family dinner. I think you’re in for another ‘I taught you better manners than that’ lecture. Sorry Der-Bear.” She didn’t look sorry in the least. 

“Family dinner. Not a Hales versus Stiles event at all.” Stiles wasn’t even sure what had just happened. Cora knowing was one thing. And it was a necessary evil for Scott to know who he was disappearing for a week with. But Derek’s entire family? This wasn’t a casual ‘I made a new friend at the gym’ type of introduction. This was everyone knowing exactly what they’d be up to in a few week’s time. 

“Don’t worry. You already know a lot more Hales than you think. And I bet Mom’s going to love you.” Cora at least took some pity on him and threw her arm across his shoulders, rubbing his arm through his uniform. “If the sun holds out, we’ll get the grill outside going. The little ones will run all over, uncle Peter will be his usual charming self, and Derek and I will be there the entire time if you feel overwhelmed.”

“I marinated some steak and wings yesterday.” Derek looked apologetic for subjecting Stiles to all of this. Stiles looked unimpressed, even the discovery that Derek cooked couldn’t cheer him up. 

“I’m going back to work before I get roped into your next family reunion,” Stiles decided, taking away a copy of the documents for himself, and another copy to drop off at his lawyer’s office. “I can meet you here at four, then we can go to my house together?”

Derek nodded, sliding his copy of the documents carefully into his laptop bag while Cora squeezed Stiles goodbye. 

“We’ll be here waiting with Mom. Remember to bring your friend!” 

~

Scott, to his credit, kept all judgmental comments to himself. Even though there were lots of ‘Stiles, you barely know this guy,’ and ‘Stiles, you don’t have to do this. Is he blackmailing you?’. He was almost polite upon being introduced to Derek, save for a fiercely bitter glare, a too-firm handshake, and a suspicious lack of biting commentary, the majority of his manners probably triggered by the presence of Talia Hale. 

Stiles could tell at first glance that Mrs. Hale was very much the matriarch of the Hale family. Even sitting down at Cora’s rustic counter, Talia Hale exuded a curious combination of alpha dominance and graciousness. She rose fluidly from the barstool and greeted Stiles with a firm handshake. 

“I’m so glad you’ve come into the lives of my family, deputy. Some days I think you’re all anybody talks about.” She looked like she would have loved to tuck him into her side as she was doing to Cora, and refrained only because they were near strangers. 

“And I’ve heard almost nothing about you, Mrs. Hale. One would think Derek and Cora were trying to keep us apart.” Any intimidation Stiles may have experienced upon first glance was eviscerated as soon as he spied her gentle hand smoothing down Cora’s blouse. Stiles experienced a sharp tug in his chest as he was reminded of the way his mom used to smooth down his clothes every morning before he left for school. A little boy with a group of brand new friends to impress hated being babied by his mother within sight of everyone, and within a few short weeks he would barely tolerate a brief hug goodbye. 

Sensing his grief, Mrs. Hale reached for Stiles and pressed her palm softly against his cheek, which he leaned into almost instinctively. 

“You have your mother’s eyes. We worked closely together when I was in the state senate attempting to pass the Omega Worker’s Union Bill; it was before she met your father. And I daresay you’ve inherited her spirit as well.” And that was all it took. The nervousness and the awkwardness Stiles carried through the door dissipated as Stiles cautiously stuck close to Mrs Hale’s other side, feeling his heart get lighter as he listened to her fussing over the two of them, Cora throwing him an exasperated glance over her mother’s shoulder. It left Scott and Derek to bring up the rear of their group, the two of them keeping a stringent three feet distance between them while each tried to out glare the other. 

Stiles almost followed Mrs. Hale into her vehicle before remembering that he drove himself and Scott here after work. She pretended to not even notice his slip up and patted him reassuringly.

“We’ll follow your car, Deputy.” 

“Stiles, please. No one in your family calls me Deputy, and you’re definitely one of my favorite Hales thus far.” Derek’s face was doing some sort of weird contortion; he must think Mrs Hale was about to spill some embarrassing childhood stories since she and Stiles bonded so fast. He wasn’t completely wrong. Stiles would doubtlessly use every opportunity to coerce Mrs Hale into sharing those tales, and maybe even some baby photos. 

~

“Feel free to poke around. I promise there’s no murder basement.” Stiles suddenly wished he had spent a few more hours picking up around his house. He wasn’t one of those people that could be featured on an episode of Hoarders, but his house wasn’t the tidiest of places either. There were abandoned coffee mugs in the kitchen, an open packet of cookies on the coffee table, his couch blanket unfolded and strewn carelessly across the cushions. Stiles felt his nervousness returning as Mrs. Hale’s meticulous inspection went on, and tried to calm himself by putting on a fresh pot of coffee for everyone. 

Derek was dismissed by Mrs. Hale upon first entering, and stayed in the kitchen with Stiles and tutted at his store-bought coffee grounds while the Hale ladies toured the house under Scott’s supervision. In the presence of Talia Hale, any other alpha just looked like they were trying too hard, and Scotty seemed more and more like the knife at a gunfight as he and Cora trailed behind her. 

“I’m sorry about Scott, he forgets his mother taught him manners sometimes.” Stiles poured Derek a mug of coffee, sure that the alpha only drank a sip out of politeness. 

“It’s fine. I’m glad you’ve got someone looking out for you.”

“I own several firearms, Derek. I’m a member of law enforcement. I can look out for myself just fine.” It was only when the words left his mouth that Stiles thought that maybe he came across as too defensive. But he didn’t work this hard in life just to be ‘looked out for’, damn it. 

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Derek made a frustrated noise, his grip tightening on Stiles’ Goofy mug. “I just meant that you’ve got dependable friends…. a support network.”

Stiles snorted at the diction straight from his Omega Community seminar course. “Are you planning on inflicting some serious psychological damage? You can’t be that bad in bed. ”

“No! Of course not! I’m not!” 

“Confident in your skills, are you?” Stiles was basking in this glorious moment; for once he wasn’t the flustered one in the conversation. “Someone told me guys with bigger knots make less effort-”

“Stiles, please. I don’t want to know.” Cora popped out from around the corner, temporarily relieving Derek from Stiles’ line of questioning. “There’s no reason for you to be putting that terrible sludge into your body. I’m being completely serious when I offer to let you take some beans home,” Cora remarked before she disappeared into his pantry. Stiles was sure she was three seconds away from throwing the rest of the coffee into the trash.

“And then you’ll berate me about wasting your exotic, single sourced, organic coffee in my terrible excuse of a coffee machine.” His generic brand drip machine worked just fine. It even had a timer that started the coffee for him promptly every morning at 6AM. As far as Stiles was concerned, it made coffee and that was good enough for him. “If I had good coffee at home, I’d stop going all the way across town to drink yours. And then who will bring you lunch and bother you at work?”

“I’m sure I can guilt trip Der into making me some lasagna or something.” 

“My pasta roller is broken. I have to order in a part and fix it before you ‘guilt’ me into making lasagna,” Derek announced from the doorway. 

“Derek would be happy to make sure his little sister is properly fed, isn’t that right dear?” Talia interjected, laying a hand on Derek’s shoulder. Cora simply looked smug, and the sarcastic retort on Derek’s lips would definitely be spoken aloud if not for the presence of their mother. 

“I’m sure Cora can feed herself,” he defended weakly, though even Stiles could already see Cora emerging victorious from this conversation. 

“Nonsense, look how her wrist bones are showing. She’s working so hard, my poor little bird.” Talia had Cora tucked into her embrace in the span of three steps, and turned around to readdress Derek without a break in her rhythm. “Derek, you ought to look out more for your sister instead of staring at a laptop screen all day long.”

“She eats! She and Stiles ate an entire loaf of garlic bread two days ago,” Derek justified, completely unamused by the smirk on Scott’s face. 

“That is to the credit of Stiles’ caring nature, and not yours.” Talia fixed Derek with a firm stare, and after a few seconds, he acquiesced with a tilt of his head, exposing the column of his stubbly throat. Satisfied with the family business portion of the day, she gestured for them all to sit around Stiles’ kitchen table and produced a short pile of documents from her briefcase. 

Scott immediately zoned in on them, staring and reading intently, mouth twisted in a line. 

“Scotty, it looks like the standard government form. We already signed it this morning,” Stiles said, taking a pen and writing his address neatly under ‘location’. 

“I just want to make sure. Who knows what the creep could’ve added in the fine print?” Scott muttered, glancing suspiciously at Derek every time he looked up from the papers.

“Mr. McCall, I appreciate that you are -rightly- looking out for the welfare of your friend. However, I would ask you not to refer to my son in such a crass manner. I can assure you the documents have been examined by both parties’ lawyers, and both have approved them,” Talia said sternly, and it was Derek’s turn to smirk at Scott as he looked down in embarrassment. Stiles just mouthed a ‘wow’ in Cora’s direction, after he resisted an overwhelming urge to bare his throat at Talia Hale. That wouldn’t be appropriate, seeing as Stiles had just signed a heat contract with her son. Also, he didn’t think she was the cougar type. 

Stiles, Derek, and Cora passed papers back and forth as they signed and initialed at the changes to the contract. It was when all of the papers were gathered and stacked that Stiles was hit with the finality of it all. Legally speaking, he was still allowed to back out at anytime he wanted. But sitting there, with all of the paperwork in front of him, that made it real somehow.

“So…. that’s it?” The silence around the table was horrifyingly long, as everyone glanced at each other.

“The paperwork is done.” Derek looked almost as stunned as Stiles felt.

“Yes, that went rather smoothly. I’m sure Stiles will want to change out of his uniform before he comes for dinner,so let’s all give him some space. We’ll wait for you outside, dear.” Her children took that as a signal to stand and file out of the house, Talia closing the door behind them. 

Scott fiddled with the papers, shifting in his chair as if uncomfortable.

“Are you sure?” he finally asked. “You know you don’t have to. And he really does look like a creep.”

“He’s not a creep.” Stiles punched his best friend in the arm half-heartedly. “I’m really sure. I asked him, didn’t I? It’ll be fine. I promise to call you before and after. And if he’s a dick to me I’ll cheer you on as you beat him to a pulp.”

Scott grinned widely as he threw his arms around Stiles, squeezing tightly. “It’s so adult of us, signing heat contracts and everything. My mom will be upset she wasn’t here to take pictures.”

“Yeah, well. We couldn’t go on sneaking into each other’s rooms and playing video games forever.” Their parents had become legitimately concerned when they both hit puberty, making many attempts at banning the sleepovers before giving up due to their tenacity. 

“You call me if he mistreats you.” 

“Yeah yeah, Alpha McCall,” Stiles joked, trying not to let the moment become too mushy. It’d be embarrassing to have tear tracks down his face when he was supposed to go have family dinner with the Hales. 

“Go have fun at dinner. Maybe you’ll find an alpha that looks less like a mass murder. I hear their older sister’s pretty hot.”

~

She was pretty hot.

Laura Hale was what Stiles imagined Talia to look like in her youth, though she lacked the effortless grace Talia had gained with age. Still, it was easy to see the family resemblance. She had her mother’s hair, Derek’s cheekbones, and struck an imposing figure even when balancing a tray of sweet tea in her hands. 

“Wow Der, I was starting to think Stiles was your imaginary friend.” Laura blatantly swept her glance up and down the length of Stiles’ body, only stopping when her mother coughed authoritatively beside them. “What are you doing with my weirdo brother?”

“He… looks good in gym shorts?” Stiles really wanted to make a reference to their first interaction regarding his jock strap, but thought that might be a more appropriate conversation after everyone’s had a few drinks first. Derek looked a cross between being pleased by Stiles’ compliment and scandalized that he said so in front of the family. 

“As his older sister, I consider it my duty to show you around the house and point out the various photos of Derek before puberty,” She declared, easily transferring her tray to Derek and pulling Stiles along through the house. 

“I want to see all of the photos.” So he wouldn’t feel too intimidated the next time they worked out together. Also, Stiles was willing to bet baby Derek was adorable. 

It was apparent that a lot of the downstairs had been renovated and modernized. The kitchen Laura led him through looked like something out of House and Home, gleaming stainless steel appliances, floor to ceiling cabinets, and elegant white marble countertops. The dark walnut floors played off the black picture frames on the gallery wall, a perfectly unified background for the photos on display. At first, the frames seemed haphazardly arranged on the wall, but there was a sort of chaotic order to them. 

The photographs were arranged in a time line, Stiles recognized a younger Talia at her bonding ceremony at the beginning of the hallway. As he walked on, he noticed Laura’s baby photos, then Derek’s, and made a cooing noise at a baby Cora tugging at Derek’s Mickey Mouse shirt. The school photos were less candid, showing all of the children posed in front of that awful generic blue background. Laura had a hand thrown over hers, claiming it couldn’t see the light of day lest it burnt, but happily pointed Stiles to Derek’s. 

Stiles’ recurring laughter must’ve alarmed Derek, the alpha in question quickly appearing around the corner as Stiles was keeled laughing at a picture of twelve year old Derek smiling brightly as he proudly held up a blue and orange quilt he made in Home Ec. 

“I can’t. I can’t. Oh my god, tell me this masterpiece is still around somewhere,” Stiles asked between giggles, trying desperately to recover his breath. It was clearly contagious, as Laura also giggled along with him, both of them disregarding the scowl on Derek’s face. 

“Mom displayed it for ages!” she revealed, tugging Derek back as he tried to bodily block the photo from their view. “She put it away for the renovation. It’s probably in a box in the attic somewhere.”

“Did you tell Stiles about the summer you spent obsessively pickling every vegetable you could get your hands on?” Derek retaliated. “Maybe we could show Stiles the pickled cauliflower we’ve still got in the back of the pantry somewhere.”

“Don’t you dare. That was science, Der. I was learning about chemical reactions!”

“And buying out the entire county’s supply of mason jars.”

“Well at least I wasn’t making throw pillows and knitting rugs!”

“Rugs are more useful than pickled asparagus!”

Stiles was no longer concerned about his own weirdness showing through at this family dinner. Somehow, he thought he’d fit in just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love! Please feel free to come poke me on [tumblr](http://dizzilytwirling.tumblr.com)! I think (hope) we'll get to the smut next chapter.


	3. That Goddamn Lasagna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thick alpha cock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the rating has officially gone up! To thank y'all for waiting so patiently, an extra long chapter. Also, the smut has arrived.

Stiles’ heat began with an impossible craving for lasagna. 

He blamed Cora for blabbing about Derek’s home-made, hand-rolled creation everytime he even suggested buying a frozen one. A search through his freezer yielded no results, and Stiles threw a tube of cookie dough on the ground in frustration, slipping down to the ground with his head in his hands. He knew it was ridiculous to be near sobbing over the absence of lasagna, and his logical functions knew it was the hormones. But mostly he wanted to just have a good cry about the fact that he wanted lasagna and didn’t have lasagna, and that the sofa was crooked. And as if the universe was against him, his Nutella jar was empty. Empty! It wasn’t allowed to be empty! It just wasn’t! What was he supposed to do when there was no more Nutella? 

Inexplicably hurt by the presence of the offensive jar, he chucked it angrily in the direction of the garbage and marched off for his phone. 

“This is all your fault!” Stiles sulked to Derek, petulantly fluffing the throw pillows, deciding he didn’t like the way it sat, punching it down, then fluffing it up again. 

“You’d be surprised how often I hear that. What have I done this time?” Stupid Derek sounded like his hormones were perfectly balanced and not being annoyed out of his mind by his brass curtain rods. Seriously, what was Stiles thinking? They doesn’t go with his coffee table at all. 

“You and your stupid hipster pasta roller! They make lasagna sheets now you know! That come in convenient boxes and sometimes go on sale for like, not even a dollar. And your stupid homemade lasagna and your stupid oregano that you keep in your herb garden. I mean who has an herb garden in this day and age? Are you my Polish grandmother?” Stiles huffed, feeling the floodgate of his frustrations open. “And your stupid alpha pheromones making me all-” Stiles waved flailed his arm in the air as if Derek could see him. He ended his rant with a yell of extreme irritation. 

“You’re four days early,” Derek replied after a pause. Stiles could hear the ambiance of people chatting and the milk steamer hissing in the background; Derek must be at Cora’s shop already. 

“Because of you and your stupid pheromones Derek!” Stiles gave up on the battle of the throw pillows. He was just going to have to get new ones, there was no other way around it. 

“Stiles, deep breaths. Come on, breathe with me,” Derek coached, like they were in lamaze class or something equally ridiculous.

“I’m not in labor Derek!” Stiles shouted at him, wanting the man to get here already so he could throttle the alpha like he wanted to. “I just want lasagna! And I don’t have lasagna! And there’s no Nutella and there should always be Nutella and-” He broke off before the waterworks started again, though he was already sniffling. 

“The world is against me,” he said in a pitiful voice, lip trembling and eyes watering. 

“No, no. Stiles, don’t cry. It’s going to be okay,” Derek soothed over the phone. Stiles could hear a laptop snapping shut and Cora cackling unhelpfully in the background. “I’m coming over right now. I’ll come make lasagna at your house. You can have it all to yourself. All the lasagna that you want, okay? And I’ll pick up some Nutella on my way. Do you want anything else?”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Stiles whined through his sobbing, a little perked up by the thought of impending lasagna and Nutella delivery. “I want frozen waffles. The blueberry kind. None of that whole wheat, nonfat stuff. And don’t you dare buy the generic brand, it’s not the same!”

~  
Derek arrived with a couple reusable shopping bags slung over each shoulder and what Stiles assumed to be the infamous pasta roller cradled in his hands. The only thing that saved the alpha from another emotional breakdown on the doorstep was the jar of Nutella peeking out from one of the bags. 

Stiles went to relieve Derek of the bags immediately, if only so he could get the food into his mouth faster. At this point, toast was out of the question. Licking Nutella off his fingers was the way to go. The rest of the shopping was abandoned on the kitchen table as Stiles calmed his hormones with a healthy dose of cocoa and hazelnut. Derek wisely kept all comments to himself and quietly began to put everything away and set up the equipment he brought. He paused when passing Stiles to put something in the cupboard, leaning in and sniffing cautiously. 

“What do you think?” Stiles said. “Am I inspiring your animalistic urges? Do you feel the need to ‘drown in my scent’ and ‘choke on the delicious omega pheromones’?” 

“I feel that you’ve been reading too many romance novels.” Though it didn’t come off quite as calm and collected as Derek was hoping. 

“I don’t actually know what you’re reading on that laptop all day, Derek. Now that I think about it, you could be reading Harlequins in broad daylight, in public.” Huh, Stiles should really ask Cora to steal the laptop one day to verify this theory. 

“You don’t smell too far into heat yet.” Derek changed the subject abruptly, making Stiles even more curious about what his work entailed now. 

“Well, the cravings started this morning. And now the fact that you’ve not lined up the canned tomatoes on the counter or ordered them by size is really bothering me, so I estimate we’ve got about six hours until naked time.” Derek gave him the eyebrow of judgement for Stiles’ use of ‘naked time’. “In the meanwhile, if I yell at the vacuum, cry at the tragedy that is my window treatments, or rant about the evil cash milking scheme that is the Swiffer, feel free to ignore me.”

Derek just nodded and pulled out a mixing bowl to start on his pasta. Stiles was not willing to put up with the disaster that was Derek’s canned goods arrangements, and ordered them from smallest to largest by height, and placed them all flush against the wall before he went back into the living room to face the throw pillows once again.

He gave up on trying to make the pillows look like they always did in the magazines, and instead began to clear everything he could get his hands on off the various surfaces of his home. Declutter, then vacuum. And then maybe move the sofa because it didn’t look right sitting there. Maybe against the other wall, so it could get some more sun. 

~  
Stiles blinked awake, a little confused about why he’s fallen asleep in the first place. His sofa looked to be in the same place as before, though the coffee table seems suspiciously void of clutter.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep some more?” Derek walked in the room, wiping his hands on the apron tied around his waist. Oh god, had Stiles really broken down on the phone and forced Derek to come and make him lasagna? “You’ve barely been napping for an hour. The lasagna needs about ten more minutes in the oven.”

Still not quite alert, Stiles took a deep whiff, the smell of oregano, tomatoes, and cheese seems to have permeated his house. “How… when did I fall asleep?”

“When you tried to leave and go to the hardware store for wood stain because the coffee table was ‘deplorable’, I convinced you to lie down and watch HGTV for more inspiration. You barely made it through half an episode of House Hunters.” Derek at least seemed amused by Stiles’ nesting antics.

“They always pick the house I hate because no one can look past paint color!” Stiles replied automatically, before realizing that not everyone has watched entire marathons of that show without moving. “Thanks for not letting me drive and stuff.” 

Derek seemed to have done more than just convince him to lie down, the TV had been turned off and a blanket thrown over Stiles’ body. He definitely was not in the right state of mind to brew himself a cup of tea and keep it on the side table. 

“You weren’t all that unmanageable.” Derek sat beside him on the couch and leaned in for another careful whiff. Stiles, tired of Derek being so cautious around him, offered his wrist and placed it right underneath the alpha’s nose. 

“You don’t have to keep a two foot radius from me. I certainly don’t plan on doing the same for you.” 

Derek’s eyes widened a little at his boldness, though he cradled the arm softly in his hands before brushing his nose against Stiles’ skin. He took a much deeper breath this time, the warm brush of air eliciting a shiver from Stiles. The alpha took this as permission to proceed, tugging Stiles closer, tracing the line of his arm until his nose was pressed right against the skin of his neck. Stiles could feel his heart rabbiting in his chest, his head tilted almost instinctively to present and submit to his alpha. 

That one simple action seemed to trigger something in the alpha. Within seconds Stiles found himself on his back and pressed into the cushions, blunt teeth keeping him in place and leaving their mark. The alpha made space for himself, maneuvering pajama clad legs to bracket his body as he lifted Stiles’ loose fitting shirt. The cold air provided only temporary relief for his flushed skin. The sensation of strong, warm, capable alpha caging him in, sheltering him from the world, felt even better. 

BEEP. BEEP. BEEEEEEEP.

The loud shrill from the kitchen made them both stop, Stiles only now noticing the rocking motion of his hips, and the very firm erection digging into his thigh. 

“I have to go pull out the lasagna,” Derek said a little awkwardly, fingers still splayed against Stiles’ ribs. The kitchen timer continued relentlessly. Stiles has never wanted to smash a kitchen appliance more in his life. Stiles also wanted to make some sort of euphemism about ‘pulling out’, but the majority of his brain power was currently focused on the way Derek nipped at his collarbone. 

“Go turn off the stupid timer.” Stiles gave the alpha a half-hearted push to the shoulder.The instant Derek lifted off him, depriving him of all that delicious heat and pressure, Stiles wished he had just let the lasagna burn. He sat up pouting, glaring angrily at the kitchen and that stupid knot-blocking lasagna. Now, instead of having his shirt rucked up, slick ruining his pajamas and an alpha between his legs, he just had an alpha- oh, apparently bringing him a plate of lasagna complete with what looked like garlic toast and a spinach salad. 

It smelled delicious. In a different way than the alpha pheromones that were clouding his brain a few moments ago, but still tempting enough to prompt forgiveness. Derek seemed to know that lasagna took priority now, and quietly turned House Hunters back on as they both tucked in. 

He tried to focus on the food and the awkwardly affectionate couple on TV for as long as he could. But as it turned out even spectacular homemade pasta and a multimillion dollar mansion on the coast of Maui couldn’t delay the progress of his heat. Stiles put his half finished plate on a table and stood, drawing a worried look from Derek. 

“I’m going to go to my room before I ruin the couch with slick.” 

Derek nodded tensely, putting his own plate down as well. “I’ll do the walk around and make sure the doors are locked.”

“You look more nervous than me.” Stiles laughed, reaching to poke at Derek’s firm jawline. “Go walk off the nerves. I’ll see you in a minute.”

~

Stiles switched on the fan, placed a stack of towels on his dresser, and turned down the sheets. He shuffled around the room mechanically, though there really isn’t much left to prepare for. Even with the fan on, the room became saturated with the scent of his heat. He forced himself to stop wasting time dawdling around and quickly strips off his already drenched pajamas, throwing them in the laundry bin. 

Derek knocked on the doorframe as Stiles was trying to decide whether he should pose on the bedspread. Stiles just imitated Derek’s ‘eyebrow of judgement’ and beckoned him forward.

“I don’t want our first time to be when I’m out of my mind and can’t remember anything afterwards.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to let your heat progress a little more and-” Stiles cut him off by pushing him onto the bed. It’s likely the shock than the power of Stiles’ biceps that took Derek down. Still, it afforded Stiles quite a nice view of the alpha. He straddled the man, insistent that he should stay put in Stiles’ bed and stop being so polite about the whole affair.

“Look. I know they teach you in school that it’s safer to wait until the heat has fully developed or whatever. But I don’t want to sit here, miserable in my own slick, then wake up with a sore ass and not remember a thing that’s happened because you’re trying to be nice.” In a moment like this, Stiles wished Derek was a little less considerate and a little more naked. “I’m pretty sure we would’ve knotted at least once by now if it wasn’t for that stupid lasagna, so take your clothes off and fuck me, alpha.” 

He was flipped onto his back in an instant, the position reminiscent of their impromptu scenting session on the couch. “You were the one who asked for lasagna. No one to blame but yourself, Stiles.” 

Stiles didn’t even know Derek had that kind of a voice in him, a low, assertive, growly sort of tone that sent shivers straight up his spine and made him want to spread his legs even further. His body responded swiftly, slick flowing freely onto the sheets. Derek pushed his knees toward his chest, spreading him without a thought to expose the source of the sweet, cloying scent of omega. 

“You’re lucky I’ve been doing my stretches,” Stiles grumbled, holding the underside of his knees to make room because Derek was quickly sliding down his body. 

“I know. I’ve been watching you.” But Derek wasn’t really looking at Stiles anymore. Not his face, anyway. Entranced was the best way Stiles could describe Derek’s expression. The longer he stared, the more awkward Stiles began to feel. Without Derek on top of him, he began to feel the chill again, and was intimately aware of just how much slick was trickling out of him. 

“Are you having a staring contest with my-” Stiles never got to finish whatever sarcastic remark he was about to make. Instead, his body saw fit to emit some sort of embarrassing squeaking noise when the alpha licked a bold stripe across his entrance. He gathered just enough strength to prop himself up on his elbows to watch, though Derek didn’t seem to notice what he did anymore. The alpha had one of Stiles’ legs braced on his shoulder, the other spread back and kept out of the way with a strong grip, to ensure that nothing got in the way of his task.

His tongue swirled around spontaneously, the amount of pressure tantalizing, but not enough to offer any immediate relief. The teasing had Stiles eagerly bucking his hips up into the pressure, but his insolent squirming was put to a stop soon enough. The alpha took his mouth away and bit down on the fleshy part of Stiles’ inner thigh, sending a him a warning look from between his legs. Stiles had never seen a man as authoritative as Derek with the bottom half of his face drenched in omega slick. 

Stiles couldn’t even stop fidgeting on a good day. In heat with an alpha’s finger slowly working its way into his entrance? There was no hope. And if Derek wanted him to keep still, there’d better be some rope in those grocery bags. 

“Butcher’s twine is too thin, might cut off your circulation.” Oh. The alpha didn’t even look like he was joking about the twine. He emerged from between Stiles’ thighs with a determined look, and it took Stiles only a moment to note his target. That same - slick covered, dirty, wonderful- mouth latched onto a nipple, already puffy and sensitive due to the hormones coursing through his body. Derek drew a sharp squeal from Stiles as he applied just the tiniest bit of suction, the pressure of which was enough to make the omega arch up off the bed. 

Stiles’ fingers weaved into the alpha’s hair, pulling and tugging to distract himself from the almost painful sensitivity. He’s never had anyone pay such attention to his nipples, especially not in tandem with a finger pumping inside him. His hands had long ago given up on pushing that devilish mouth away, and now gripped the alpha tight to keep him in place, to keep that warm, wet pleasure. 

Derek’s fingers moved slowly inside him, so slow it was almost perverse, like Derek was inspecting his every square inch. There was so much slick now that two fingers slid into his body smoothly, almost sucked inside with the pulsing of his interior muscles. Stiles was mewling steadily, pawing viciously at the irritating fabric of the alpha’s clothes like he didn't understand their existence. Derek smartly shucked his shirt off before Stiles ripped it in a fit of impatience. That was still not good enough for the omega. Rough denim felt especially coarse against Stiles’ sensitive skin, causing the omega to groan frustratedly when he couldn’t get the buckle undone. 

Derek seemed ready to be out of his pants as well, and threw them aside in a flash, affording Stiles the view of a generously proportioned alpha cock before sliding it across his hip. The alpha moaned at the skin to skin contact, completely deterred from torturing Stiles’ nipples any longer. 

Stiles was ready for that cock. He was so ready. As soon as he caught a glimpse and the pure, unadulterated scent of alpha in the air. But Derek seemed perfectly content to keep humping against his hip like some pubescent teenager who was afraid of accidentally knotting someone. Yet every time he tried to lift his hips and redirect the alpha’s thrust, Derek’s grip tightened and kept him in place. He didn’t even have any fingers inside him anymore, though the two from before were barely adequate in whetting his appetite. 

“Please,” He whined, squirming as much as he was able to, fingers digging into Derek’s forearms. Stiles never thought he would have to resort to begging for cock in the middle of his heat. He didn’t have to beg for long. Deft hands pushed his knees back, and thick alpha cock nudged at his entrance in no time. Derek’s eyes lifted to meet his briefly, as if expecting he’d somehow change his mind. Stiles simply tilted his chin again, presenting Derek’s mark. 

A growl. A push. Then a gasp. 

There was so much slick that Derek found zero resistance. Stiles’ passage practically pulled him inside, wrapping snugly around his substantial girth. They both kept still for a moment, just looking at each other. Gradually, Stiles relaxed his hold. He hadn’t even realized he was clutching onto Derek’s shoulder blades so desperately. Derek shook out from his pose as well, and ducked his head to nuzzle into Stiles’ neck, gently worrying at the marks there.

He trailed a hand down Derek’s back, almost petting the alpha to reassure him, prompting him to continue. The movements started as a slow grind, their bodies barely separating as the alpha rutted into him. The noise it produced was downright filthy, as if someone was stirring the slick inside of him. He could feel what people called the ‘gush’ of wetness now, right down to the base of the cock that would lock inside him. He could feel it pulse and throb with the promise of a knot, a big, thick alpha knot to fill him up and breed him. 

Stiles bit down on his lip hard when Derek suddenly pulled away and slamed back into him, the sheer momentum moving him on the bed. That deliciously thick alpha cock was firm and hot, making its way inside insistently, inspiring cry after cry from Stiles. His drawer full of vibrators and knotting dildos could not even compare. Had he chosen to spend his heat by himself, he was sure he’d be beating down at the closest alpha’s door and begging for a cock, any cock to be pushed inside him. 

The alpha pushed his knees even closer to his chest, lifting his ass higher and providing Derek the opportunity to drive deeper. It only took a few sharp jabs at this angle before Derek hit his prostate. Stiles responded with no less than a squeal, nails digging into his alpha’s back at each maddening thrust. He felt that coil of tension at building at the base of his spine, knew he was clenching down on Derek’s cock when he heard a guttural moan in his ear.

“Do it. Come around my cock. Come on Stiles, you know you were meant to come around a thick, alpha cock.” Derek was making a special effort to graze at his prostate using sharp, shallow strokes, with just enough variety each time to drive Stiles crazy. 

“God, please-” Stiles breathed out, barely able to function under the assault. 

“Do it!” The alpha growls, and Stiles was coming, shouting profanities and spasming weakly against the sheets. He made a mess of their fronts, watery come decorating skin. Even after all that he was still hard, and Derek seemed to take that as a personal challenge. A quick readjustment of Stiles’ leg on the alpha’s shoulder, and the assault had begun again. 

Derek was an unstoppable force, not to be deterred by anything. The creak of his bed frame, the scratch of Stiles’ nails on his back, the frantic clenching of Stiles’ muscles as he came down from his orgasm all seemed to egg him on, fucking Stiles right through the aftershocks. He was sure his guts were being turned inside out. They had to be. 

The alpha kept pumping into him with no sign of stopping, until Stiles was hoarse and flushed from shouting. Yet throughout all this, he somehow managed to still beg for more. He tilted his hips up to meet every thrust and becomes impossibly wetter, raised the volume of his pleading to be heard over the slapping of flesh. Suddenly he felt his alpha’s knot forming, and knew that’s what he was made for. There was nothing on this earth he wanted more. 

He hardened his grip around his alpha, keeping him right where Stiles wants and not giving him the least chance of pulling out. He wanted that knot inside him for hours, wringing orgasm after orgasm from him until he blacked out from the sheer pleasure of it all. He wanted his alpha to plug up his needy hole and breed him good, wanted all the seed that his alpha can provide, because it was his. 

“Fuck, Stiles-” Derek sounded as breathless as Stiles felt, strained as if he were holding back. Stiles doesn’t want him to hold back, he works his interior muscles to keep Derek inside greedily, mourning a little at every withdraw. He doesn’t understand why his alpha has to pull out; they fit so perfectly together.

“I want it. G-Give it to me.” He pulled his leg down and wrapped them both around Derek’s waist, exerting every ounce of strength to keep Derek’s cock inside him as the knot slowly begins to swell. Derek looked at him with wonder before gathering himself and quickly wrapping a hand around Stiles’ cock. 

“One more Stiles, you can do it. I know you’ve got one more in you.” His alpha’s touch and encouraging words brought him to a climax in seconds, and as he clenched down on the ballooning knot lodged inside him, Stiles had never felt more complete. Deeply rooted instincts took over whilst Stiles attempted to recover. It stretched him impossibly wider than he already was, but his body was made for it, wrapped perfectly around his alpha’s knot to keep his seed in. His muscles contracted around the alpha’s knot, squeezing, milking for more seed. He knew that first warm jet inside him was just the beginning of a very enjoyable hour of being tied together. 

Derek seemed to recover his senses first, and gently flipped them over so Stiles was lying prone on top of his chest, their legs tangled together. Neither of them spoke for a long time. What do people even talk about when they’re knotted together? 

Ever the master of timing, Stiles’ stomach gave a growl, and they both burst into laughter after their eyes met. 

“We should’ve brought some lasagna in here.”


	4. Omega Bonding Funtimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More porn! Stiles deals with the aftermath of heat, and some exciting things happen to Ms.Cora!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a long wait! Thanks for being so patient with me. Hopefully the porn makes up for it!

Heat was exhausting. There’s no other drive that kicked in quite as fast as the fatigue. For a solid three days, Stiles’ body warred between overwhelming arousal to overwhelming fatigue. Most of the time arousal won out, and Stiles briefly reminded himself to apologize for all the scratch marks and love bites he left all over Derek’s body, before being distracted by Derek’s body and begging to be knotted up all over again. 

Derek was more than obliging, alternating between patiently stroking his hair while they were tied together and pounding into him with enough force to make the walls shake. When the fever finally broke, Stiles was sure his entire body had fused to the mattress. The first few attempts at lifting himself off were feeble at best, and after that he just resigned himself to a full day of bedrest. 

“I ran a triathlon once, and felt less exhausted afterwards than right now.” Apparently Derek also felt similarly, tucking himself closer to the warmth of Stiles’ body even after he had slowly blinked awake. 

“To be fair, triathlons only last a few hours.” 

The alpha just grunted at him, showing no signs of getting up or changing position. His hair was ridiculously flat in some places and stuck up hideously in others. It shouldn’t be attractive. Stiles knew he probably looked a mess right now too, but hadn’t regained quite enough mental capacity to care. 

“Just because your knot came out to play for a few days, doesn’t mean we’re reverting back to caveman times where you grunt and I follow you back to your cave so you can have your wicked way with me.”

“Already had my way with you,”Derek mumbled into Stiles’ neck, eyes fluttering shut again. 

Stiles flushed at the reminder, suddenly hyper aware of the mess on the sheets and whatever remained between his thighs. “Well, we’re in my cave. So an argument could be made that I had my way with you. You alphas think you can take all the credit because of all the… thrusting and the knotting.” 

“You liked the thrusting and the knotting.”

“Without my juicy love cavern, you wouldn’t have anything to thrust into.”

“I’m regretting all thrusting decisions on the basis of ‘juicy love cavern’.” It was a testament to how truly horrible the moniker was that Derek had bothered to open his eyes and stare back with a vaguely traumatized expression. 

“Just shut up and cuddle me. And then we’re having a heroic amount of leftovers for breakfast.” Stiles shuffled around in the covers until Derek was pressed up against his back, then wiggled until he was comfortably spooned by the alpha’s body.

They lay quite comfortably for a while, breathing with each other and listening to the muted sounds from the outside world. Stiles almost drifted off again before he felt a determined cock stiffening against his behind. He shifted experimentally, under the pretense of adjusting his position. The alpha hissed under his breath, and began to pull away before Stiles took solid hold of his arm to keep him still. 

“I just had it in me not twelve hours ago, Derek. I think we can throw all modesty out the window. In fact, I’m quite flattered you could even get it up again so soon after that.”

And that was a classic example of what not to say to an alpha still on a post-heat high, because Derek then proceeded to growl loudly at him, insulted by any suggestion that his alpha cock wasn’t up to the task, and thrust purposely against his back. 

“You can get it up! I know you can definitely get it up! Big strong alpha with a big alpha cock,” Stiles amended quickly. It seemed to quiet the alpha briefly, though he was sliding his cock between Stiles’ cheeks. Stiles’ body responded automatically to Derek now, producing more slick in no time at all to aid the alpha’s soft thrusting. 

The glans popped inside him a few times, simply due to how much slick there was, but the alpha made no move to push inside him. As satisfying as the motion seemed to be for the alpha, Stiles just grew more frustrated over time. All attempts at signaling to Derek that Stiles was ready for penetration now seemed futile, and no amount of grinding back got him any closer to another turn on that stubborn cock. 

Finally, he had it with the subtle hinting, and reached back to get a firm grip on the alpha’s cock so he could wriggle into place and sink down onto it. Derek bit at his earlobe softly when Stiles took him down to the root, huffing fondly in his ear.

“I thought you’d be sore.”

“Giddy up.” Stiles delivered a sharp tap to Derek’s thigh. “I can be sore tomorrow.”

All reservations removed, the alpha began to fuck into him with much more purpose. The position allowed him to brush up nicely against Stiles’ prostate, and with a few timely strokes of his cock, Stiles was convulsing around the alpha in no time. 

Derek’s rhythm became more leisurely after that, taking care of Stiles’ sensitivity. Though it wasn’t too long before the alpha was grunting and pushing inside as far as he’d go, clutching onto Stiles’ body as the knot began to swell. The physical strain of knotting on his body was decidedly more noticeable now that the fog of heat was missing, even minute movements that jostled their position elicited a whimper from Stiles.

“Do you ever wonder why it’s called spooning?” Without the heat prompting him to spout embarrassing things concerning the Derek’s size and virility, it was only a minute before Stiles’ mind began to wander. “Like, first of all, spoons in a drawer are all the same size, so there’s no ‘big spoon’ or ‘little spoon’. Or at least, the spoons that fit together are definitely the same size. Also, why don’t we call it ‘Pringling’? Doesn’t it look more like the way Pringles are stacked together? Is it because Pringles hadn’t been invented yet when people started using ‘spooning’?”

“The handle.”

“What?” Now Stiles was just confused. “Is the handle your dick? Because no offense, it’s not that big.”

“Torsos stay straight, and look like the handle of the spoon. The bottom part is your legs. That’s why people say spooning.” Stiles could almost hear the eye rolls and eyebrow raises of exasperation.

Stiles stayed quiet for a few more minutes while he considered this, mind starting to wander again. What did people even do when they were knotted? In fact, what did they do during his heat? 

“So how about them Mets?”

“Shut up and let me spoon you, Stiles.”

~

The sex was great and all, but Stiles secretly thought the best part of this whole thing was lounging about on his couch, tucked under a mountain of blankets with House Hunters playing and Derek feeding him bites of reheated lasagna whenever he opened his mouth. Stiles’ ideal porn would feature maybe a good eight minutes of fucking, followed by the obligatory half hour to an hour of knotted cuddling, and then just a day of being carried places and fed deliciousness. 

“I’m surprised there’s still food left in this house.” He vaguely remembers eating at least half the lasagna by himself on the first day, ravenous after the energetic rounds of heat sex.

“I baked off two. There’s another one in your freezer, in the aluminium pan.” Derek fed him a grape tomato or a piece of cucumber in between bites of lasagna, no doubt concerned about all of the meat, pasta, and cheese Stiles had been consuming. “Just take it out and put it in the oven at 400 until the cheese bubbles.”

“Seriously, all this time I’ve been drinking wheatgrass at the gym.” Stiles mumbled to himself. He wasn’t a bad cook, having fed his dad and himself just fine all these years. By the time he got home from work, he just wanted to collapse on the couch. Stiles usually made big pots of stews and reheated it throughout the week, or put something in the slowcooker if he could remember to. Derek, of course, had all the leisure of someone who worked on his own schedule, and cooked like he was lulled to sleep by Food Network and knew all the vendors at the farmer’s market by name. 

“Wheatgrass has been hailed as the ‘natural healer’, it’s good for you.” Derek rumbled to his ear, taking the plate away after he was finished eating and rearranging the blankets so they were both snugly tucked underneath, Stiles quite content with his alpha pillow. 

~

Stiles stood in his doorway awkwardly, holding the freshly washed pasta roller in his hands as Derek made his way downstairs, hair still a little damp from the shower. There was really no polite way to kick someone out of your house after almost a week of sex and cohabitation. Derek seemed to take the hint, slinging his duffle bag over a shoulder and taking his pasta roller back. 

“So…. I had a good time?” 

The eyebrows of judgment were back, Derek somehow managing to pull off the look even in sweatpants and wet hair. 

“Thanks for the….” Stiles waved around, trying to gesture to the pasta roller but somehow ending up pointing at Derek’s crotch area instead. He just really needed to sleep off whatever hormones that were still turning his brain into oatmeal. “It was nice. I had a good time. Sorry about your back.”

Derek nodded stoically, eyes suddenly drawn to the paint chips on Stiles’ doorframe. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

Stiles breathed a sigh of relief when Derek’s car drove down the street. Even having a housemate as cordial as Derek became tiresome after a few days of being attached at the hip, no pun intended. He reveled in having an empty house and lounged about the rest of the day, shuffling from couch to bed. 

 

~

 

By the time he woke from his latest nap, it was already dark outside. The first thing he did was reach for his phone and pull up the group conversation he was dragged into with the Hale siblings. 

‘10/10. Would have again.’

It was barely a minute before his phone started sounding text alerts. 

‘STOP. JUST STOP’. 

‘MY EYES. DID NOT NEED TO KNOW.’

‘Seriously, Stiles?’

‘Get your minds out of the gutter, Hales. I meant 10/10 for the lasagna.’ Stiles laughed to himself at the trauma he must’ve caused. 

‘Thank god.’

‘The sex was maybe a 9/10.’ He added a few moments later, chuckling maniacally. His neighbours were probably used to the strange noises coming from his house. ‘Good effort, team!’

‘FRIENDSHIP OVER. NO MORE FREE COFFEE FOR YOU’

There was radio silence from Derek, Stiles assumed he was still recovering from the week of vigorous exercise, and not rolling his eyes at Stiles’ ridiculousness. 

~  
He received a judgmental eyebrow from Cora when he stopped by during his break, but a drink was still placed in front of him at his usual seat at the counter, so he figured he hadn’t been shunned. 

“You would be plying me for details if it wasn’t your brother I just spent heat week with,” Stiles pointed out, leaning against the counter and sighing happily into his coffee. 

“No details!” She threw her hands over her ears and glaring at Stiles suspiciously, as if he was going to suddenly start describing Derek’s dick or something. Granted, he had been mulling over all of the wonderful possibilities on the car ride over. But. Well. He didn’t want to be banned from the best coffee shop in town. 

“What if I didn’t use any names? Like, person A did this thing with his tongue-” Cora quickly took action and stuffed a muffin top in his mouth, which Stiles happily accepted. 

“I will gladly listen to all of the details of your sexual escapades with any other alpha on this Earth. But if you say one more word about my brother in the context of your vacation together, I will not hesitate to poison your coffee.”

“So if I hooked up with Laura…”

“Please, you can’t handle Laura.” 

“Laura likes me.” Stiles gave her an exaggerated pout. “We could have a good time together.”

“Derek!” Cora called to her brother, sitting at his usual table and tapping away at his laptop. He glanced up, wary at the sight of them with their scheming heads together over the counter. “Stiles thinks he can handle hooking up with Laura.”

“You’re not even sitting down after having the weekend to recover.” Derek glanced over Stiles’ form, supporting his weight on his elbows instead of sitting on one of the stools at the counter. He quickly glanced back at his laptop, as if he couldn’t believe he’d been pulled away from his work for such a question, although Stiles couldn’t help but notice he looked just a little too smug. “You can’t handle Laura.”

“Well now I’m just curious.” Stiles hadn’t heard very much about the eldest Hale sibling before he met Derek. Was Laura Hale the stuff of legends in omega circles? Were there fansites dedicated to the sexual prowess of Laura Hale? He didn’t have many omega friends to clue him in on all the gossip. 

“You can ask her yourself at family dinner on Saturday. Mom’s been very eager to have you back.” Cora had a glint in her eye that was starting to make Stiles nervous. “She was asking Derek this past weekend why he didn’t bring you over to the house. I think I remember something along the lines of ‘leaving that boy all by himself in such a time’.”

“I was just fine.” After a long soak in the bath. Sure, he was mostly lying on his side and did a lot of stretching to work out the kinks in his muscles, but heat recovery was never the most pleasant thing in the world. “I’ll tell your mom it wasn’t Derek’s fault. I practically kicked him out of the house.”

“Was it that bad?” 

“I meant my 9/10 rating.” Stiles reminded her, laughing at the way her face twisted up. “It’s just nice to have the house to myself again after being in each other’s pockets for so long. He left me in good hands, lots of leftovers and the remote within reach.”  
“Your standards don’t seem particularly high.” 

“What about you then, Ms.Cora? What do you like in an alpha? Do you like alphas?” Stiles realized they’ve never once talked about Cora’s romantic relationships in all this time they’ve been friends. To his surprise, Cora actually ducked her head in a rare display of shyness. She chewed at her lip whilst glancing over at Derek nervously to make sure he wasn’t paying attention to them. 

“I’ve got this dating app that matches you up based on a blurb you write and your hobbies and things like that, and then when you both click ‘yes’ it shows you the person’s gender and their picture. Usually I get matched with betas but I’ve been talking to this alpha for a few months now. And… I don’t now. It’s nice?” 

“But you keep thinking the dickish, arrogant alpha personality is going to make an appearance sooner or later, which will result in your inevitable disappointment and maybe you shouldn’t bother with all that in the first place.” Stiles finished for her. Cora looked so relieved that the issue was finally off her chest, and Stiles couldn’t blame her for keeping the affair a secret in her family dominated by alphas. 

“The texting’s been fun, you know? We talk, we flirt, there’s no commitment at the end of the day. I can be in sweat pants on the couch and describing the lingerie I’m supposedly wearing.”

“It’s all quite innocent then, is it?”

Cora slapped his arm for the sass, though Stiles could just see the beginnings of a blush before she was overcome with the sudden need to turn and rearrange the milk cartons. 

“So now you’re thinking about…”

“I’m just thinking about it. And anyway I’ve never even met the woman.” 

“But you’d like to?” Stiles pressed. Cora must like this mysterious alpha enough if they’ve been texting back and forth for a few months. 

“She asked to meet and have lunch, I haven’t replied yet.” Cora cut him off as he opened his mouth to speak. “Don’t even think about giving me the peer pressure speech, Deputy. I would’ve already said no if I didn’t want to.”

“It’s just lunch. If she turns out really horrible, at least you’ll know, and can start flirting with other alphas on the app.”

“It’s not just lunch though, is it? What if I like her?” Cora was almost whispering now, as if she couldn’t bear to hear the thought aloud. “What if I like her, and we go out on more dates, and then we spend a heat together and all of a sudden she thinks she’s got some claim on me and forces me to sell the business so I can move in to clean the house and look after the children all day?”

Stiles’ abrupt giggling was clearly not appreciated during Cora’s crisis, and he quickly tried to assuage her. His laughter also drew too much attention from Derek, who was not even pretending to look at his laptop anymore. This was definitely a conversation they shouldn’t be having in front of Cora’s elder, protective, alpha brother. Derek looked annoyingly well put together for someone who’s spent most of a week tumbling around in bed, whereas Stiles could barely roll out of bed that morning. Some deeply buried part of him wanted to tuck himself into the alpha’s lap and rub up against the man until their scents were mingled again. Luckily, the logical part of hims still had some hold over his primal urges.

“I’m not laughing at your problems, I promise! Look, I’ve got to go back to work. Come over tonight, we’ll have some wine, put on an awful romance movie with a good looking alpha and have some omega bonding funtime, alright?”

“Only if you promise not to use the term ‘omega bonding funtimes’ ever again.”

~  
Cora showed up at his door with a bottle of tequila and a mesh bag of limes. Stiles was just thankful he didn’t have the morning shift the next day.

“Well if I had known we were aiming to get drunk, I wouldn’t have attempted to do a cheese board.” 

“We’re making margaritas. I do have a business to run in the morning.” She made herself at home in the kitchen and got to work with the dusty blender Stiles had used all of once. 

“If you were mystery alpha’s house omega, we could get roaring drunk and you wouldn’t have to worry about going to work in the morning.” Stiles teased, accepting a very generous glass from Cora. 

“And then gotten lectured about ‘abandoning my home duties’ and ‘not acting in accordance to proper omega decorum’.” Cora made a face, though her gaze was quickly drawn to the loose collar of Stiles’ t-shirt. Now that he wasn’t afforded the high collared protection of his uniform, the love bites that still lingered were peeking out above the fabric. She tugged the neckline down and whistled at the abundance that still remained. 

“I know, I look like a leopard.” He grabbed a few different bags of chips and situated them on the couch, with the movie channel playing in the background.

“So what’s it like?”

“What, heat? Oh, you’ve never actually… with…”

“No. Never. I’ve been so occupied with starting a business, and then dealing with the self-entitled corporate alphas that have tried to buy me out at the first sign of success. Telling me they’re much better at managing a business, and I should really look to settle down now that I’ve had my ‘little adventure’” She took a big gulp of her drink and stared straight at the wall. “So. Alphas haven’t been a top priority.”

“I think that if you have generally positive feelings toward mystery alpha, you should give the whole thing a chance.” Stiles offered, suddenly aware of how unqualified he was at giving relationship advice. “Bad personalities aren’t gender specific, and any betas you go out with also have the potential to be possessive, manipulative bastards.”

“I don’t want to end up a house omega.”

“You realize almost a hundred years of grassroots efforts, endless protesting, lobbying, thousands of omegas unjustly jailed and persecuted resulted in more than just gender neutral change rooms at the gym, right? There are Omega Rights legislations, organizations, not to mention your friend the Deputy to make sure you’re guaranteed your basic human rights.” Stiles threw an arm around her shoulders and squeezed tightly. “I think you’ve made it pretty clear in your life that no one can force you to do anything. No alpha is going to change that. And if she tries, we’ll go egg her house.”

“Stiles, you’re going to get us arrested.”

“Well, luckily for us. I happen to be on pretty good terms with the Sheriff’s department.”

With a clink of their glasses, Stiles knew things were going to be just fine.


	5. Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles eats things inappropriately. Sex happens. World building. Shit goes down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since the last update, but hopefully the new developments make up for things. We're getting close to the end, guys!

Stiles’ mouth watered at the sight of it. He’s had to wait so long, squirming in his seat in anticipation. When he was finally allowed to wrap his hands around the thing, the meaty weight came as a surprise. The tip was leaking with juices, and to prevent a further mess, Stiles wrapped his lips around as much as he could take in. He raised his gaze to meet Derek’s, noting the fire in his eyes and the redness of his ears. Derek’s throat contracted noticeably as he stared at Stiles, rendered speechless by his display. 

Stiles took his mouth off and licked his lips self consciously, then dove back in for more, eyes closing to concentrate on the weight on his tongue. There was a wetness dripping down the corner of his mouth, but he had much more important priorities at hand. Such as getting more of this deliciousness into him. Right now. 

“Would you like something to wash that down with, Stiles?” Talia’s teasing broke Stiles out of his reverie, and he put down his burrito a little sheepishly. To be fair, he hadn’t eaten all day at work, and the smell of the grilled meats and melted cheese was just too good to resist. He wiped his hands on a napkin and accepted a beer, chewing much more demurely now. 

“This is really good. We’ve been running drills with the new recruits all day, haven’t had much of a break all day.” Stiles raised his burrito in a salute and dove back in. 

“We’re always happy to host hard working police officers. Aren’t we, Derek?” Derek was dutifully tending to the grill, now that he’s stopped staring at the sight of Stiles wolfing down his food. Stiles had to admit, the sight of Derek in a tank top flipping steaks on the grill was one he’d like to see more often. 

“Speaking of hard working…” Talia turned to Stiles with a wicked smirk. “I hope my Derek treated you well during your heat. The boy is sometimes a little slow on the uptake, you have to ask him outright for what you want. Subtlety is lost on him. His father’s the same way.”

“He… um… put in a lot of effort.” Stiles regretted his choice of words as soon as they left his mouth.

“Nine out of ten on the scale of effort, according to Stiles,” Laura chimed in. 

“Laura!” Stiles blushed, reaching to swat her on the arm.

“Did he satisfy you? Sometimes alphas can be very single minded when the hormones get to them, all knots and no technique,” Peter drawled, sipping on his beer as if he was remarking upon the weather.

“Did he make sure you were hydrated? Dehydration is one of the leading causes of post-heat faints.” Mr.Hale offered. 

“Yes, he-” Stiles could barely get a word in, with all of the questions and reproaches directed at him and Derek. 

“Sometimes gravity is a big help, this one time your mother and I were in the kitchen, and my leg was hitched up on-” 

“Where’s Cora anyway?” Derek asked loudly, interrupting his father and the increasingly embarrassing line of questioning. “It was her turn to bring dessert.” 

Stiles, of course, knew that Cora was actually in the next town over on a first date. But chances that her family was aware of the potential new alpha in her life were minimal. 

“She had an emergency with one of her suppliers, out of town I think. She told your dad she might just get a hotel overnight if the meetings run too late.”

“Overnight?” Stiles couldn’t help but ask. Last he heard, it was just supposed to be a coffee date. “She told me this morning it was supposed to be a lunch meeting,” he quickly amended.

“She’s had to work longer hours lately, my little bird. She’s well on track to opening a second location next spring.” Talia’s pride was apparent. 

“Yes. We’re all very proud.” Peter rolled his eyes, not willing to let the subject be changed so easily. “What we really want to know is how darling Derek performed.”

“Yes, because we are a family without boundaries and love to scare off strangers.” Derek looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

“Derek!” The alpha was smacked upside the head for trying to out-sass his uncle. “How can you call Stiles a stranger now? You’ve spent a heat together for god’s sake.” 

“We-”

“We had sex! All throughout my heat. It was very satisfactory. Derek did not starve me. And as you can see, I’ve returned him in one piece. Can we please move on?” Stiles was thoroughly flushed, all thought of a relaxing evening on the patio gone. 

“Is Stiles gonna have a baby?” A small voice piped up. All eyes turned to the little Hale cousin playing with her dump truck on the deck. “Momma says babies come from heat.”

“Stiles is going to have the rest of this burrito. And that is all Stiles will be having.” He glared at Peter, clearly about to make another snarky comment. There were a lot of not so subtle glances to his belly now, and he adjusted his belt self-consciously. He could also see Derek staring at his stomach, and cut off that line of suspicions straightaway. “Not pregnant, Derek.”

“Is it because he’s not married yet? Momma says I have to be married before I have babies.”  
This family should come with a warning label. 

~

The next morning found Stiles having his morning coffee with Derek, trying his best not to remark upon Cora’s new scarf, or the family’s glaringly obvious hints about their relationship last night. After assuring everyone that no, he was not pregnant, yes he was sure, and no they were not planning on marrying, he barely got a moment alone with Derek. At least he was allowed to leave after dinner; Derek was probably harassed some more after he left. 

“I’m sorry about everybody, last night.” 

“It’s fine, Derek. Really. At least they fed me before the inquisition.” Now that Stiles thought about it, they hadn’t spent any real time together since after his heat. He had expected things to be awkward with them, for there to be at least some sort of discomfort for a while. But Derek seemed unchanged. And Stiles was... disappointed? Not disappointed, but maybe some part of him wanted something, rather than Derek treating him the exact same way as before. The other rational, omega rights activist part of him was glad that Derek went back to treating him like a human being, despite the feral, possessive alpha that appeared during his heat. 

“They like you. I don’t bring friends home very often, and they get very excited about new people.” Friends. Well that was a very clear line being drawn in the sand.

“Friends or _friends_?” Stiles teased, choosing to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

“ _People_. I don’t bring people home often.” Derek pulled a foil wrapped parcel from his backpack and pushed it in front of Stiles. “Mom wanted you to have some leftovers, in case you’re too busy to eat lunch again. I told her you’re a grown man capable of feeding himself, but I’ve learnt it’s best to just do what she says.”

“This is very progressive of you, alpha working from home packs lunch for the omega.” Stiles laughed and accepted the food, glad to have something home cooked for later. “You’ll have to thank your mom for me. I might’ve just had vending machine crap for lunch again.”

“You didn’t used to be this busy.” Derek’s brow wrinkled with concern. 

“It’s just for a little while longer, we’re training new recruits because some officers are retiring and a few are moving away. Plus the Sheriff is putting me in charge more as election season comes up and he leaves to go campaign. Oh, and we’ve been allowed a budget for some police dogs, and a canine department. You would not believe the amount of paperwork that’s involved. And it’s just been piling up during my week off.” Stiles sighed at his upcoming workload, glancing at his watch and deciding to sit just a few more minutes before he absolutely had to go to work. “Hopefully it won’t be long before I can hang around to bug Cora at lunchtime again.”

“Your health is important, especially during flu season. Are you drinking enough water?” Stiles wished he could say that Derek mother henning was unattractive. 

“Don’t worry, the department made us all get vaccinated.” It was important that the sheriff’s department did not all fall sick during the winter. 

“I could bring you lunch,” Derek offered. “Until you have more free time.”

“You want to bring me lunch?” Stiles sometimes wondered if Derek actually had a job. “Do you not have work to do?”

“I’m allowed to take a lunch break. Which is something you have apparently not experienced in a while.” Derek looked adamant, and Stiles found it hard to turn down the offer. 

“Alright. If you have time.”

“Thank you, Derek. I’d love for you to bring me lunch.” Derek raised his pitch in a clear mock of Stiles, eyes sparkling.

“I don’t sound like that!” Stiles smacked Derek on his bicep. “And leave the sass to your uncle.”

~

The entire department was staring when Derek walked through the bullpen with an honest to god picnic basket in his hands. 

“Don’t you all have work to do?” Stiles called out, and quickly ushered Derek into his office and made sure all the blinds were shut against the curious crowd. Derek was already clearing off his desk and starting to lay out lunch.

“The receptionist was very nice,” Derek remarked, as he started peeling back the plastic wrap on a salad bowl. 

“That’s only because she’s got a thing for broad shoulders.” Stiles tucked into his meatball sandwich without being prompted, moaning at the perfection that is melted cheese and marinara. “Oh god, I want you inside me all the time.”

Derek coughed as he plated up some salad for Stiles. “Not exactly the healthiest option for everyday, but I thought you’d need the calories for running around with police dogs.”

“If you bring me some kale nonsense tomorrow, we are going to have words,” Stiles warned, though the effect was dampened by his mouthful of food. 

“Hard to have words with your mouth full,” Derek mumbled.

“Why Mr.Hale, that’s a rather salacious suggestion to make in the Sheriff’s department,” Stiles teased, doubting that Derek had any indecent thoughts in mind when he made the comment. “Are you offering to keep my mouth full?”

“Are you offering to blow me in the Sheriff’s department?” Derek countered, evidently unphased. Stiles would have, but he’d also like to keep his job. 

“Maybe if you keep bringing me food.” 

~

“Fuck, Stiles.” Derek’s fingers tightened in his hair, voice hoarse and desperate. 

Stiles pulled off with a spectacularly dirty slurp, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand and grinning at the sight of Derek successfully transformed into a pile of goo in his armchair. He couldn’t identify exactly what prompted him to push the alpha down and suck him off determinedly on a Tuesday evening, but he suspected it had to do with the bag of pre made breakfasts Derek had come by to drop off. 

“Saved you the trouble of jerking off later,” Stiles boasted triumphantly. 

“Is there no way of shutting you up?” 

“Well, not now.” Stiles looked at Derek’s softening dick pointedly. 

Derek tugged on Stiles’ bicep, pulling him astride his lap, and shut him up with a clever curl of his fingers. It was just not fair that Derek could get him so wet out of heat. The amount of slick his body produced was embarrassing, it must be all of Derek’s tupperware permeating his house with stupid alpha pheromones. Derek’s fingers twisting and moving inside him soon had him writhing around in his lap, body seeking more, wanting something to satisfy the ache. 

It wasn’t until Stiles was panting limp in Derek’s arms that the excessive discharge started to concern him. Maybe he should make an appointment with his gynecologist 

~

“Fuck!”

Stiles just nodded in agreement, fingers knotting desperately into Derek’s chest hair. The unused lube was thrown haphazardly aside, thanks to Stiles’ recently discovered ability to become completely drenched at Derek's ’s slightest touch. 

How had they ended up here again? Stiles vaguely remembered dinner. There may have been some necking on the couch, simply because there was nothing to watch on TV. 

Derek’s hands held him in place as he lifted and dropped his hips over and over, mindlessly seeking his own pleasure without a thought to what his partner might need. Stiles was frightfully out of breath, but soldiered on nonetheless, hips moving with such force that he seriously feared for the structural integrity of his bed frame. Although, Derek didn’t look like he minded being ridden into the mattress. 

~

“Fuck!”

“Did you burn your tongue on the coffee again, Deputy?” One of the new recruits rushed forward with a glass of water, eagerly seeking favour with their superiors. 

Stiles resisted the urge to pout at work and took a long drink of the cold water, feeling a little less grumpy now that his tongue was soothed. 

“I hope Mr. Hale brings those home fried chips again,” another officer commented. “You’re a lucky omega, Deputy Stilinski. I’d marry the man just for his chowder.”

“And the way he fills out a sweater.” Johnson made a noise Stiles has never heard of outside a nature documentary. “He can visit me at work anytime.” 

Stiles knew the officers were just trying to make conversation, but their remarks somehow rubbed him in all the the wrong ways. 

“I’ll be sure to pass on the message when I see him, Johnson. Maybe he’ll take you up on the offer.”

“If he had eyes for anyone else, Deputy, I would climb that alpha like a tree.” She sighed wistfully. “A very handsome tree. I bet those arms could hold me up against-”

“Johnson!” Stiles barked, before she could go any further. “Go run a lap for inappropriate comments in the work place.” 

~

_“Good morning, Deputy Stilinksi, this is Josh from Dr.Farber’s office. The doctor would like to speak to you as soon as possible on an urgent matter. It’s very important that you get in touch with us right away. So please give the office a call back as soon as possible to schedule an appointment, we can be reached at...”_

~

“And then she called Derek a handsome tree!” Stiles said through a mouthful of food, recounting his work adventures to a room full of laughing Hales. All except for Derek, who was rolling his eyes and flipping through the channels, pretending he wasn’t a part of this conversation.

“Well, Derek did inherit Daddy’s jawline.” Laura grinned. “Which supposedly broke many a heart in his day.”

“When I was seventeen, I was visiting a friend in LA, and-” Mr.Hale started, only to have his narrative rudely interrupted.

“Was offered a modeling contract,” all the Hale children completed in unison. 

“And you turned down a life of fame, riches, and glamorous parties to march on Washington with the Movement.” Laura added, having clearly heard this story many times. 

“Only to end up raising hellion cubs in some ‘country house in the middle of nowhere’.” Derek chimed in. 

“We know, Daddy. You’ve said.” Laura rolled her eyes dramatically. 

“Daddy also likes to talk about the time he was arrested for breaking into Congress and yelling at the President.” Cora whispered to Stiles. 

“Unjustly arrested!” Mr.Hale protested. 

_“We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming for breaking news. Pharmaceutical giant LifeCor is undergoing heavy investigations for the nation-wide recall of the drug Iniustitiam-AT 378, also known by its market name Daisy-28, an omega oral suppressant. Any drugs distributed after October of last year have been declared harmful and ineffective. It is not known at this moment if the company’s other drugs are also tainted. The FDA urges all affected omegas to seek medical assistance immediately, as the affected drugs have had adverse effects…”_

Stiles hadn’t even realized he was clenching onto Cora’s hand this entire time, holding his breath as they watched the broadcast.

“I’m on the patch,” she slowly said, eyes full of concern for him.

“I have to go.” 

~

_“...a national crisis. Federal investigators have discovered that in the recent drug scandal, what the victims were actually ingesting was a black market drug used commonly in the sex trade, to increase the frequency and intensity of heats in omegas. The chemicals used in these drugs are extremely harmful when taken for an extended period of time. Once again, all affected omegas are urged to contact their healthcare professional immediately.”_

~

“The good news is your birth control was not affected,” Dr. Farber assured from across the heavy oaken desk. “We are very lucky that you opted out of the combination pill when you did.”

“And the bad news?”

“Your blood work indicates an upcoming heat in about a week’s time, ten days at the most. You may have already experienced some symptoms, such as elevated body heat, increased appetite, fatigue-”

“Excess discharge.” Stiles filled in, still numb. “I thought… I thought I was just readjusting to the suppressants after my heat.”

“Unfortunately the symptoms are very generic, and can indicate so many things. It was part of the reason why it took so long to discover the contamination.” Dr. Farber looked worn out. “You haven’t been on the drug long enough for any lasting effects. The symptoms should disappear after this next heat runs its course. Of course we’ll have you come back regularly for the next few months to monitor your hormone levels, just to make sure.”

“So what’s next? The patch? Injection?”

“It will have to be discussed after your heat.”

“And there’s no way to…”

“No. Unfortunately, the drug interacts with suppressants in a way that is very harmful to the body. We will have to wait until the chemicals have been flushed from your system before starting a new suppressant regime.” The doctor placed a glossy pamphlet in front of Stiles, the smiling nurses and neutral colors told him all that he needed to know. “If you haven’t made arrangements yet, there’s a facility less than two hours from here. There’s going to be a large government subsidy for those affected by the drug recall, and I’m sure we can make a case for your insurance to cover the rest.”

“I already have…” Stiles hesitated. He was almost going to answer that he’s already made arrangements. But he hasn’t actually asked Derek. Hasn’t even seen the alpha since he ran out of the Hale house last night. Their contract from his last heat clearly stated it was a one time thing. “I’ll take this just in case.”


	6. Chapter 6: You are not defined by your sex

_‘Investigations into the recent drug recall continues as many gather outside company headquarters in protest. In the past few days, almost two dozen of LifeCor’s top level executives was taken in for questioning. In the meantime, the FDA strongly urges all consumers to stop taking any medications produced by LifeCor and visit your healthcare professionals to seek other alternatives. The company’s stocks...’_

~

Stiles sat numb in his car, staring down at the shiny print and happy faces on the front of the pamphlet. He should call the number. It would be the responsible thing to do. A facility fully equipped and staffed to handle omega heats, with medical professionals and great reviews. Not to mention the gigantic government discount. It would almost be like going to a resort that’s covered by his insurance. He should call them. 

There was really no other option. 

His fingers hovered over Derek’s number as a clear sign of rebellion. 

He couldn’t call Derek. Spending his heat together once was letting off steam, having a bit of consensual adult fun. Twice was…. twice meant commitment. Spending back to back heats together sent the mating hormones into overdrive. And Stiles couldn’t do commitment, he had new recruits to train and elections to prepare for. He didn’t even know if Derek would want that. Would want him outside of casual sex and sarcastic banter. 

And he will not be anyone’s house omega, damn it. 

Stiles threw his phone onto the passenger seat in frustration, just barely stopping himself from banging his head on the steering wheel. He had never felt more inadequately prepared to be an adult. When he was little, his mom would make him some milky tea and tell him to do what made him happy, while his dad... his dad would probably appreciate a phone call. 

He cringed at all the missed calls that had accumulated in the past few days, his wallowing and self-pity had probably worried his dad sick. 

A part of him hoped the call would go to voicemail so he could leave an ‘I’m well’ message and avoid the conversation. 

“Stiles!” No such luck. 

“Hi, Dad. How’s my favorite retired sheriff?”

“Don’t try to change the subject. You think I don’t watch the news?” Stiles could just picture the stern look on his dad’s face. “You know what it feels like to have to call Scott and find out how you’re doing?”

“I’m sorry, Dad.” Stiles cringed, making a note to send Scotty a fruit basket or something for being such a great friend. “I’ve been busy with work, we just recruited some new officers. And then this whole recall thing happened. I went to see Dr. Farber today.”

“What’d he say? Are you going to be alright? They’re saying on the news that some-”

“I’m fine, Dad!” Stiles cut him off before his blood pressure escalated too much. “Dr. Farber thinks I’ll be fine after my next heat, and he’s going to monitor me after to make sure. He recommended a facility not too far from here.”

“Well, that’s some good news at least. You need money? Those places can be pricey.”

“No, Dad. It’s fine. There’s a whole subsidy thing.” Stiles hesitated, wanting to tell his dad the truth. 

“But?” 

“But I’ve sort of, met someone.” Stiles held his breath anxiously. 

“An alpha, I’m guessing. Or we wouldn’t be having this discussion.” The sheriff sounded more resigned than anything, as if he knew this day would come. 

“Yes.” Stiles chewed his lip nervously. “In the interest of full disclosure, I spent my last heat with him. And before you say anything, I promise we signed all of the paperwork. Scott acted as my chaperone. Everything went very smoothly.” 

“You don’t have to be afraid to tell me you’re seeing someone, Stiles,” The sheriff said gently. “I realize you’re an adult now, and have urges-”

“Oh god Dad, please don’t. Remember the last time you tried to give me the sex talk?” Stiles was still embarrassed by the memory. “Look Dad, it’s not that I was trying to keep you out of the loop. I just, I thought it would be a one time thing? And his family has the whole overprotective thing covered.”

“You spend a lot of time with his family?”

“Yes?”

“Doesn’t sound like a one time thing, Stiles.”

“Well it sort of developed.”

“Son, is this you inviting me to your mating ceremony?”

“No! Oh my god, Dad.” By that point, Stiles had almost forgotten the whole reason he called. “I just. Dad, I don’t know what to do.”

“The fact that you’re even hesitating about going to the facility tells me you’ve already decided.”

“But I, we’re not even.” Stiles sighed and leaned back into the seat. “Dad, life is hard.”

“You’ll figure it out, Stiles. Whatever makes you happy.” As reassuring as that was, it really didn’t help Stiles make a decision. “And bring your alpha by the cabin sometime.”

~

Stiles pulled up into his driveway and found Derek sitting on his doorstep like some sort of lost puppy. It would be endearing if Stiles wasn’t so confused about everything. 

“You haven’t been answering your phone.” 

“I go to work, Derek,” Stiles spat, defensive all of a sudden. “Not all of us can sit in a coffee shop with a laptop and call that a career. What are you doing here?”

Derek looked pointedly at the pamphlet in Stiles’ hand. “Are you going?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Stiles kicked at the porch steps and refused to make eye contact. “Whatever I end up doing, it’s my decision.”

“I’m not trying to take that away from you, Stiles.”

“Yes you are!” Stiles gestured wildly. “You’re here! Trying to change my mind and make me spend my heat with you. And the next thing I know my last name is different, we live in a good school district at the end of a cul-de-sac, I’m staying home with the cubs, the dog, and baking casseroles for my knitting circle and it’s just not okay! I don’t… I don’t even like casserole.” 

Stiles didn’t even realize he was hyperventilating until Derek’s warm touch on his back grounded him, and a gentle voice in his ear coached him through breathing and calming his rapid heartbeat. 

“Sexism goes both ways, Stiles. You hate it when alphas talk about omegas as if they were all weak and needy, don’t lump me in with the rest of my sex,” Derek said.

“You can’t tell me you don’t want to have two cubs and live in the suburbs.” Stiles had seen Derek with his little cousins. He’d be a great father. 

“Of the two of us, who sounds more likely to stay at home and bake casseroles for knitting circle?” Derek countered. Derek would be the kind of father that would bring really embarrassing homemade signs to Little League games and own one of those signs that says ‘we don’t swim in your toilet, so don’t pee in our pool’.

“You,” Stiles admitted. “But that’s because you’re weird. You’re allowed to have eccentricities when you’re a bachelor.”

“You are not defined by your sex, Stiles. And neither am I.” Derek looked so sincere in that moment. “I would never force you to give up your work. I’ll stay home with the cubs. If you want cubs.”

“I can’t believe we’re talking about our cubs on my porch,” Stiles muttered, sitting down on the steps in exhaustion. This conversation was way too surreal for his anxious mind.

“So you do want cubs?” Derek came to sit beside him, looking much too calm for this discussion.

“That’s not the point!” Stiles only barely managed to not scream in frustration, in case his neighbors decided to follow the noise and come check on him. “You can’t just sit there and calmly talk about our future as if there wasn’t a giant elephant in the room. Most people don’t make the bonding decision because they’ve accidentally taken a sex trade drug.”

“It’s not the most ideal circumstance,” Derek agreed. 

Stiles snorted.That was one way of putting it. 

“But I’ve been sure for a while now. You’ve never expressed an interest in bonding, and I could do casual sex as long as it meant I could keep you, however temporarily,” Derek explained softly, kicking at a rock on the ground.

“You can’t tell me things like that when my brain is a hormone scramble.”

“I wanted to make sure you knew that it wasn’t ever just sex for me.” 

And Stiles had maybe known for a while now. Derek never just left after they were done, he stuck around for take out and TV, he brought Stiles food at work. How had Stiles missed this?

“I don’t want to have some shotgun bonding ceremony because of a drug recall.”

“Then let’s elope.”

Stiles stared at Derek for a long moment before leaning in and pressing their foreheads together.

“You don’t feel like you have a fever.”

“Stiles, I’m serious.”

“What you are is insane.”

“Would you rather have the traditional ceremony afterwards, where all of our friends and relatives come congratulate us on having sex for a week?” Derek asked. 

“I think your parents have already done that.” Although Stiles couldn’t be sure if it was just a Hale family eccentricity. 

“Look. I know this is moving fast. And I haven’t formally asked you to bond with me, or even asked for permission from your family to court you. But I think we can forgo tradition in this case. Let’s just go down to City Hall and make it about us, instead of letting the drug scandals or archaic traditions dictate our lives.” Derek turned to face him and took his hand. “I would be honored to bond with you, whatever the circumstance. It’s your choice.”

Stiles’ mouth dropped open and stayed open for a long moment, then closed softly while he whacked Derek in the arm for being crazy. Who even does that? Just casually bring up bonding on the front porch?

“I’m not quitting my job.”

“I would never dream of asking you to.”

“And I’m keeping my last name.”

“Okay.”

Stiles glared at Derek suspiciously, wanting to yell at him some more for agreeing to everything he was saying. He seriously should not be allowed to make decisions under the influence of a hormone influx.

“And you can’t pressure me to have cubs before I’m ready.” Even though cubs with chubby cheeks and Derek’s eyes running around the house would be adorable. Stiles shook himself from the hormone-induced train of thought before he dragged Derek into the house and made bad decisions. 

“I won’t, I promise. It’s your body, your decision.”

Stiles hesitated, considering Derek seriously. It was crazy. It was crazy, right? There was no way he could just bond with an alpha he’s known for barely any time at all. But also an alpha who respected him, his choices, his career, and makes delicious lasagna. Could he? He couldn’t. He definitely couldn’t. It was absolutely insane. 

“Okay. Let’s do it. Let’s elope.”

~

Everyone tells the story of their elopement differently. But according to Stiles, it went a little something like this. 

First things first, pizza. It was important to refuel in case they were going to wait in line at City Hall for the better part of an afternoon. While they waited for the pizza to arrive, Stiles had a mild panic attack about having nothing clean to wear that wasn’t a police uniform. Luckily, they managed to unearth a relatively unwrinkled button down from the back of the closet. 

“So who has the honor of informing our parents and your sisters that we did not invite them to the ceremony?” Stiles asked in the car, debating whether it was socially acceptable to inform family members of their bonding via text. For the sake of his dad’s blood pressure, he decided against the idea.

“I’ll flip you for it,” Derek offered. Stiles considered briefly and agreed, then promptly lost the coin flip and grumbled the rest of the way to City Hall. 

“Oh for goodness sake,” Having had enough of Stiles’ many arguments against the fairness of the coin, Derek snatched the phone out of Stiles’ hands and took a picture of them in front of the City Hall sign.

“Eloping today at 3PM,” Derek muttered as he typed, he paused for a moment to carefully choose his words. “Family members welcome. No flash photography.”

He handed the phone back to Stiles with a smug look on his face. “There. we told them.”

“Derek Hale,” Stiles stared at him in wonder. “It’s 2:50. When did you get so crafty?” 

“Shut up,” Derek’s ears were slightly pink as they walked up the steps.

“I kind of like it when you get all grabby,” Stiles teased, endlessly amused. Especially since he could now push the blame of the abrupt announcement entirely on Derek now. 

“Let’s just go inside before they all get down here. Maybe you can even catch a few of them speeding on our way back.”

“Darling, you sure do know how to spoil a man.”

~

According to Laura, the whole thing happened a little like this.

Her bastard of a brother didn’t think to inform anyone that he was going to go and confess his love. And then out of nowhere she gets sent an elopement photo and the most half-assed invitation she’s ever seen. Did they think the life of a lawyer was so leisurely that and she could just take off whenever she wanted because she’d like to go to her stupid brother’s bonding ceremony with zero notice?

She sent a scathing text in reply and hoped their parents make it there on time so someone could yell at them for her.

~

One clerk at City Hall remembered the afternoon Deputy Stilinski dragged a man into the marriage license line very vividly. The deputy tried to cut in line but was tugged back by his alpha. People in line let the deputy go ahead anyway, no doubt to get into his good graces and be let off their next speeding ticket. Various members of the Hale family charged in and camped out in the waiting room when they discovered they could not just burst into the judge’s chambers. What followed could only be described as a very enthusiastic bout of hugging and squealing. 

~

Stiles flopped back onto the bed, panting in exhaustion and frankly, a little too dazed to talk. 

“Huh. So that’s bonding sex?” 

Derek looked over at him with the biggest grin on his face, and Stiles was sure his own expression was much the same. 

“Well you know what they say, it’s all fire and passion in the beginning but it’s all downhill from here,” Derek teased. Stiles thought he had no right to look so good all tousled and tangled in the sheets, sporting a bright red claiming bite on his neck. “Eventually we’ll be doing it once a week under the covers with the light off in the missionary position. You’ll start faking headaches and I’ll be balding have an affair with my twenty-two year old secretary. Of course this will be around the time you’re fooling around with the pool boy.”

“Can we get a pool boy?” Stiles joked, knowing that first, there was no history of male pattern baldness in Derek’s family, and second, he was way too much of a homebody to have an affair with anyone.

“Only if you lounge around the pool in indecent swim trunks,” Derek raised a suggestive eyebrow. It was rare for Stiles to see him so careless and free, and he treasured these little moments. 

“Won’t you be too busy leering at your secretary to look at what I’m wearing by the pool?”

“I don’t know, most people have affairs to escape from their home life,” Derek said, a fond look on his face. “And my bond mate is kind of great.”

Yeah, he really was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who stuck around for this long. There's going to be an epilogue after this chapter, and then this story will finally be finished. I'm also planning on writing an aside about Cora meeting her 'mystery date', so don't worry about that part of the story being unresolved. I've loved every one of your comments, they've been incredibly kind and encouraging. Mwah~


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been long overdue, and I cannot express how much I appreciate every one of you that's stuck around for this long. I can't say there won't be any more works in the verse indefinitely, but I've got other things in the works for right now. And I think it'll be good for me to take a break from these two. Much love, and thanks.

Stiles hitched her higher on his hip as he prepared to go on stage. She snuffled quietly into the crook of his shoulder, still a little miffed about being taken away from craft time with Daddy. 

“How about some ice cream on the way home, tadpole?” Stiles bribed, whispering in her ear. “With extra sprinkles. And we won’t tell Daddy.”

Derek met his eyes over her shoulder, giving him a pointed look that was clearly meant to chasten him about feeding their daughter a mountain of sugar before they were due at his parent’s house for dinner. At the age of three and two fifths, Charlotte could still be easily bribed, and perked up at the promise of a treat. She nodded enthusiastically and put on an adorable smile for their stage appearance, just in time for the announcer to call out “Deputy Stilinski!”

Campaigning was more of a formality at this point, most of the residents having known him since he was a clumsy toddler under his father’s desk, though it was important to cultivate a friendly relationship with the voters, and his campaign advisor suggested Stiles demonstrate the ‘family man’ side of himself. 

“Hi folks, thanks for coming out today!” Stiles grinned at the crowd, and urged his daughter to wave. Her cuteness was a great help this week, drawing the immediate adoration of every audience as soon as she flashed her dimples. 

“I know most of you are just here for the free pancakes.” The crowd laughed, some of them raising their paper plates in agreement. “But I hope I get the chance to talk to each and every one of you this morning, and hear what you would all like to see happen in the Sheriff’s department and the community. Please enjoy yourselves; the food is all free but we are taking donations for the local food bank. And don’t forget to thank the lovely volunteers that are helping out today, including my handsome and very capable bond mate flipping pancakes like a champ over there. Everybody turn around and give him a wave,” 

The crowd obeyed in good nature, and Derek awkwardly waved back with a spatula still in his hand. Charlotte, following the crowd, waved as well with an enthusiastic, “Hi, Daddy!”

“Alright, and that’s my spiel. Have as many pancakes as you’d like, and remember that the bouncy castle is children only!” Stiles stepped off the stage and breathed a sigh of relief; he much preferred talking to the people one on one. His daughter was getting restless, squirming in his arms and itching to try out the bouncy castle. 

She was always an energetic child, even when she was still in the womb. 

~  
 _Four years ago_

Stiles stared at the seemingly innocuous plastic sticks lining his bathroom counter, the room suddenly feeling smaller and smaller as time went on. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a few deep breaths, then checked the pregnancy tests again just to be sure. Despite all of their adult discussions and planning, seeing the little blue plus sign was quite a different feeling altogether. 

His hand went to his abdomen even though there couldn’t have been a perceptible change just yet. “Hi, tadpole. I hope it’s nice and warm in there. You’ll be in there for a while, growing lungs and stuff. Go you. I’ll try to help you out, take vitamins and eat organic vegetables. Okay. That’s it for now, I guess. I’m sure Daddy will want to talk to you when I tell him. He’s the one with the stubble and whose uterus you’re not currently residing in. We like the stubble, and sometimes pretend to find white hairs in his beard to watch him freak out-”

“Stiles!” Came Derek’s voice through the door, followed by a firm knock. “What are you doing in there? We’re going to be late; you can read Spiderman when we come back.”

“Go warm up the car. I’ll be right out!” Stiles shoved the sticks in the cabinet under the sink, and hoped that Derek wouldn’t look there until he was ready for the big reveal.

“We live in California. Seriously, what are you doing in there?” 

“Nothing. Just catching up on the adventures of your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman.” Stiles closed the bathroom door behind him, feeling slightly guilty at Derek’s confused expression. “Come on, we’ll be late.”

Stiles successfully kept the news from Derek for a whole weekend, but by the time Monday morning rolled around, he could no longer supervise his alpha and make sure he didn’t open any cupboards. 

“Are you going to go hang out at Cora’s today?” he tried to hint, fidgeting with his spoon. 

“I thought I’d work from home today, get some cleaning done and maybe finish up tiling the downstairs bathroom.” Derek handed him a packed lunch and leaned over for a kiss, lingering. “I’ll certainly have to change the sheets after last night.”

“Hey, don’t pretend you had no part in the mess making, mister.” Stiles shoved the tupperware in his bag and stood to leave, stealing a strip of bacon off Derek’s plate as he passed. “I’ll see you later, alpha o alpha!”

In the safety of his car, Stiles considered his options for breaking the news. Just showing him the pregnancy test and telling him was plan B. Stiles wanted something a little more fun, a memorable story he could tell tadpole when he/she was old enough to be curious about these kinds of things. Flash mob? Too hard to organize. Greeting card? Too cheesy. It was on his mind the entire drive until he opened his locker, and the perfect idea came to him.

He stopped by the mall on the way home, even attempting a half decent wrapping job on the hood of his car before driving home, tapping his fingers on the wheel and almost bouncing in his seat. Packages tucked under his arm, he barely made it in the door before he was assaulted by the sight of his mate in a dirty tank top and a tool belt, wiping the sweat off his forehead. Stiles blamed the hormones for rendering him speechless for a minute. 

“Who are those for?” Derek gestured to the packages, suspicious, although he had a right to be. The last time Stiles brought home a mysterious package was the reason they were retiling the downstairs bathroom. 

“You, actually. But we should probably be sitting down.” Stiles was practically bursting with excitement as he tugged Derek to the couch, pushing the bigger package into his hands. 

“Stiles, if this is another one of those things that pops and hits me in the face,” Derek grumbled as he tore open the paper. Confused, he opened the shoebox, staring at the Chuck Taylors inside. 

“They match mine. But more importantly it goes with this,” Stiles handed him the smaller box, nervous all of a sudden. But he whipped his phone out and hit record nonetheless, wanting to capture the moment and willing his hand to stay still. 

“Am I forgetting an anniversary?” Derek seemed much more relaxed opening this present, throwing the wrapping carelessly aside, revealing a similar box as before, only much smaller. “What is this, a belt or something?”

Inside the box was an infant sized pair of sneakers, made of the softest leather and looking exactly like their grownup counterparts.

“Now we can all match,” Stiles grinned, turning the camera to focus on Derek’s face. He was still staring at the tiny shoes in his hands, thumbs tracing over the laces before slowly turning towards Stiles. 

“You’re really…” Derek swallowed visibly, gently placing the shoes back in their box but holding firmly onto it in his lap. 

“Yep. Pregnant. With your spawn. Well, our spawn. I named it tadpole.” 

“That’s…” Derek cleared his throat, voice a little thick. “You’re setting up our child for playground bullies with a name like that.”

“We can work on the name.” Stiles reached for Derek’s hand, squeezing lightly. “What do you think? You ready to be tadpole’s Daddy?”

“I’m not sure tadpole’s ready for us,” Derek chuckled, raising Stiles’ hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“Well, it’s gotta grow some organs and bones and stuff. But hey, it’s our kid, I reckon tadpole’s got plenty of our crazy,”

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://dizzilytwirling.tumblr.com/)! Could not have done it without my lovely beta [badwolfbadwolff](http://badwolfbadwolff.tumblr.com/), and the incomparable [eeyore9990](http://eeyore9990.tumblr.com/) . Comments are love!


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